


The Ties That Bind

by Reyanth



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: When Squall took Laguna for a lover at what might well have been the end of the world, how was he to know the man he had fallen for was his own flesh and blood? Love comes in many forms, but sometimes it can deceive you.(Previously published on AFF.net as Paternal Instincts.)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note the incest tag and be aware that this fic is graphic.

_My father._

_Laguna fucking Loire...is my father. I always wanted… And now..._

_This is surreal. It can’t be true. It can’t be reality._

_I was so afraid back then. I’d never been with a man before, and yet I let him take me._ _I wanted to be with him. I wanted him... I still do._

_He’s gorgeous. There are so many things about him that draw me._

_They say that opposites attract. He’s annoying, quirky, and acts like a fool sometimes_ — _an incompetent fool. I should hate him. He’s the type of person who really should bug me...but he doesn’t._ _Perhaps that’s because I’m a part of him._

_No. That sounds stupid. Sappy thoughts like that just don’t fit._

_I understand the way I should feel toward my father. I know that there should be a certain bond between us, and...there almost is, but...it’s drowned out by that other something. The lust I feel every time I look at him. The fluttering when he smiles._

_I wouldn’t quite say that I love him, either way, but I do like him a lot. I do want him. I do want to be with him._

_And here we are back at the beginning, because that’s the problem, isn’t it? I want to be with my own father. I want to touch, hold, kiss, romance, and ultimately be screwed senseless by my own father. Part of me feels sick at that thought, but another part of me just doesn’t care. I’m afraid to find out which will win._


	2. Part One

Standing by the window, Laguna looked out at the night. He should have left hours ago, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the day just yet. He was determined to keep work strictly separated from home. The moment he walked out that door would be when he was ready to turn his mind away from thoughts of his job. It seemed that tonight he just wouldn’t be going home.

How could he? How could anyone just ignore the fact that several teenagers were out there trying to save the world? He’d sent them, knowing that they’d probably fail or die, but in the end, they were the only hope left.

There was a knock at the door, and then it opened. “Kiros told me you were still here,” a quiet voice informed him.

“Squall? What are you doing here?” Laguna asked, not bothering to hide his surprise as he turned to face the SeeD commander. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Not really. I just...” he cut off, looking away from Laguna. “I thought maybe we could talk.”

“Well, sure. What did you want to talk about? The mission? Or is something else on your mind?” Laguna walked around his table to make Squall feel more comfortable. Talking around desks was awkward.

“Actually, no. I mean, I’m not sure.” Squall still didn’t look at him. “I was just curious to get to know you a little better before we leave. I feel like I should, after all that time I spent in your past...” He shrugged casually, but the gesture came off as uncertain.

“Sure, I get it.” Leaning back against the desk, Laguna folded his arms over his chest.

He understood what Squall meant. Sometimes you met people and you just wanted to get to know them a little better, to find out more about them, if only to discover why you care. Perhaps it was because of the brief spans of shared consciousness, or maybe even because they were just so different... but Laguna felt the same. He wanted to talk to Squall, to know more about the stoic, teenaged warrior in whose hands rested the fate of the world.

“I’m not quite sure why I’m here, exactly. I have enough trouble talking to my friends.”

Laguna nodded.

“I just... I don’t want to regret anything. There are a lot of things I have to do, and stopping Ultemicia is just one of them, but…I might not survive. I don’t want to regret anything I can remedy right now.” Squall moved to stand beside Laguna, resting his own weight against the table.

They were both silent for a moment, and then Laguna looked down at him. “Are you afraid, Squall?”

“No,” Squall answered immediately. Then, “…Yes.”

“I used to be terrified when we were sent on important missions, or got into tough situations.” It wasn’t a direct relation to the conversation, but more of a reflection. Somehow, he didn’t think Squall would mind. “All the confidence in the world couldn’t have stopped me from being afraid. The best I could do was to spend time with Kiros and Ward… To try and take my mind off of what lay ahead.”"

“I’d feel strange, opening up to the others right now. They’d know something was up. They’d know I was scared.”

“So you came to me, a relative stranger.” All Laguna could see was the top of the commander’s head dipping in a brief nod. “I’m flattered.”

Finally, Squall looked up at him, and the unguarded emotion in those blue eyes caused Laguna’s breath to catch in his throat. Time almost hit slow motion as Squall finally stopped trying to find a reason for his actions and lightly gripped Laguna’s hips, reaching up on his tip-toes to press a kiss to the lips of the President of Esthar.

Laguna reacted automatically, bracing one hand against the table top and lifting the other to Squall’s waist. He took the initiative and parted his lips, squeezing the teen’s side softly when a tongue slid into his mouth. He kissed back, allowing Squall to taste him before deepening the kiss and caressing Squall’s tongue with his own, letting the foreign taste wash over him.

When Squall finally pulled away, his cheeks were slightly flushed and his breathing was harsh and ragged.

“Is this the sort of talk you had in mind?” Laguna asked, sliding his arm further around Squall’s waist and pulling the commander’s body tightly against his own.

Squall shook his head, his eyes containing a sharp determination that had been absent only moments ago. “I don’t know what made me come here, but I’m not going to waste this chance.”

Before Laguna could even comment, Squall was shrugging off his jacket and walking back a couple of steps as he pulled off his shirt. Laguna’s hand fell to his side and hit the edge of the desk hard. Absently, he rubbed the sore spot, eyes riveted to every inch of scarred skin that appeared before him.

A moment passed, and then he was walking forward, reaching out to gently run his fingers down the delicate skin, roughened in little puckers from previous battles. His hand traveled lower still until his fingers hooked into the multiple belts draped over Squall’s hips. He could feel the distinct ridge of Squall’s erection pressed against his hand, and he looked into the commander’s eyes once more and then dragged him closer by the belts, his lips descending to steal a more forceful kiss as his tongue delved into Squall’s mouth. It ran over every surface in reach, mapping out the sensitive terrain down to the last detail.

By the time they parted, panting for breath, Squall’s fingers had worked open the last buttons of Laguna’s shirt, and he slid his hands up the president’s chest and over his shoulders. The shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

Very casually, Laguna worked on unbuckling each belt as he continued to stare into Squall’s eyes. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured. “In fact...” a small smirk spread over his lips. “I think that scar just makes you sexier.”

The belts clattered to the floor, closely followed by Squall’s pants.

“Look who’s talking,” Squall returned.

A moment later, Laguna’s nose was inches from Squall’s cock and he crouched there, looking up the sculptured line of Squall’s body to the eyes which stared down at him, widened in surprise… and lust.

He decided that he liked those eyes. There was a familiarity in them that made him feel comfortable. He continued gazing up into them as he took Squall’s length into his hand and stroked a couple of times until it hardened fully to his touch.

He began to knead the stiff flesh softly as his other hand pressed firmly against the teen’s hips, urging him to stay still. Holding the base of Squall’s erection in his fingertips, Laguna leaned forward and took just the very tip into his mouth, working his lips around the flesh, and then adding his tongue. He took in a little more whilst circling his tongue around the head, and then pressed it into the slit, drawing a long moan from Squall’s luscious lips.

He was good at that sort of thing. All those times when watching Julia from afar had made him needy—when he’d gotten too nervous and failed to approach her—Kiros had been there to help him wind down. He’d learned a lot back then.

Squall half grunted, half groaned as Laguna’s tongue worked its way down the hard flesh, his veins beginning to throb with need. The president lifted his lips off carefully, and then blew cool air over the heated length, delighted by Squall’s silken moan. Flicking his tongue out, he tasted the moisture gathering at the head. It could never be described as pleasant, but Laguna liked it; it was proof that his effort wasn’t wasted.

“Laguna,” Squall gasped, and Laguna slowly raised his gaze, taking in the lean strength of Squall’s body until he saw the teen’s face. Eyes shut, mouth slightly parted and closing just a little with each ragged breath, pink cheeks shining, soft hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead… Squall was indeed breathtaking.

Taking a firm grasp of Squall’s arousal once more, Laguna pumped slowly as he stood to lean over the commander, first bending to lick the crease just beneath his jaw, and then taking Squall’s lower lip between his teeth, turning the soft nip into a kiss that quickly grew deep and heated.

Clumsily, Squall fumbled with Laguna’s belt, eventually managing to undo his pants, which Laguna then wriggled out of so he was naked. He never did much like the constriction of underwear. Had Squall learned that little fact on his forays into Laguna's life? Had he been present when Laguna took a lover? Was that why he had dared to be so bold?

Laguna entwined his fingers with Squall’s, and then raised both arms above their heads, breaking away from the kiss just enough so that they were nose to nose. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Laguna asked, rocking his hips forward.

“I’m sure,” Squall moaned.

“Good.” Laguna used his grip on Squall’s hands to push him toward the nearest surface. He ground his hips against Squall’s again, and then whispered into his ear. “It’ll hurt at first, but I promise that won’t last long.”

“I trust you.” Squall tucked his head against Laguna’s shoulder, his body highly aroused and trembling slightly. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

With one hand, Laguna reached between them to caress Squall’s peaked nipples, but the other trailed slowly down the commander’s back till it cupped his ass. Laguna squeezed once, and then stroked the cleft leading to Squall’s entrance. He drew his hand away and then licked three fingers before letting one slide down to circle around the puckered ring. He pressed lightly until it sank in to the nail.

Immediately, Squall tensed, and Laguna pinched a nipple between his fingers. “Relax,” he instructed, minutely shifting the penetrating digit to let Squall get used to the sensation until the tension in his muscles eased off. “That’s it,” he whispered as he pressed in further.

He could feel regulated breathing against his neck as well as Squall’s head bobbing slightly, as though he were nodding to himself. Working the finger in and out, he continued to roll Squall’s nipple between his fingers as a distraction. As he added the second finger, he reached down to coax the neglected cock back to full arousal, successfully diverting Squall’s attention for a brief moment.

Laguna scissored the two fingers, working on stretching the orifice just enough to add a third finger. Before he did, he nuzzled Squall’s hair.

“Bite me,” he whispered.

As his third finger squeezed inside, Squall took his advice and bit down on his shoulder, quite hard. A muffled grunt could be heard along with Laguna’s short cry. By now, he was shaking with need; the tightness of Squall’s body making him ache to be buried inside of it. Finally, he finished off the process, twisting and crooking all three fingers until a whimper escaped the commander, who finally released his jaw, lifting his teeth carefully off Laguna’s shoulder.

Slipping his fingers out, Laguna moaned as Squall licked at the bite mark, causing it to sting more, but in a good way. Gripping the base of Squall’s neck, Laguna urged him to tilt his head back, and then kissed him hard, desperately rocking his hips in search of friction.

By the time they were both gasping for breath, staring at each other through hazy, diluted eyes, Squall’s erection twitched against Laguna’s thigh, proving that he was far more than ready. Guiding him, Laguna took hold of his hips, spinning him so that he was draped across the table.

The sight made Laguna groan—even more so when Squall spread his legs, looking over his shoulder. Spreading the virgin cheeks with one hand and reaching between Squall’s thighs with the other, Laguna rubbed his cock up and down Squall’s crack, biting his lip in anticipation. Once he was properly aligned; he pushed forward, stroking Squall’s erection to divert him from the inevitable pain.

Before he knew it, Laguna was in as far as he could go and gasping for the breath he’d forgotten to take. He continued fondling Squall’s cock, stroking his balls and then running his fingers over the shaft again.

“It’s okay,” Squall growled, his voice deep and sexy. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Laguna moaned and accepted the invitation, pulling back a little, and then rolling his hips forward. His head fell back as he did so, his mouth gaping open in a silent gasp. “Squall,” he moaned, pausing a moment, and then pulled out further before thrusting in a little harder. The tight pleasure swallowed him whole every time he plunged in, and the slow drag out was even more unbearable. Heat and moisture caressed him at every moment.

When he finally adjusted to the sensation, he realized that Squall was gripping the table with white knuckles, and that his thighs were shivering with some kind of strain. The president altered his motion, reaching out and stroking Squall’s hair on a whim.

“Keep going,” Squall choked out. He pushed back against Laguna’s groin, a low whine issuing from the back of his throat. “Harder.”

“You’re hurting,” Laguna stated, wanting desperately to continue, but not to damage his lover.

“It doesn’t matter. I can block that out.” Squall pushed himself off of the table top, wriggling a little as he reached above his head to hook his arms behind him around Laguna’s neck. “It feels good,” he moaned reassuringly. “Don’t stop.”

Winding one arm around Squall’s waist and teasingly running fingers over his cock with the other, Laguna began to piston his hips back and forth. He started off slowly at the new angle, but when Squall’s cries and moans grew more insistent, he pulled out fast and drove in hard.

Suddenly, Squall arched and gasped loudly, begging Laguna to hit that same spot again. Three more thrusts and Laguna shouted out his release, striking deeper yet as his hips pulsed and he rode out his orgasm in Squall’s tight body, returning the favor and biting down on the commander’s shoulder. One final stroke and Squall came hard, shooting seed up onto his chest and over Laguna’s hand.

Together, they sagged to the floor, still joined at the hip.

“That was amazing,” Squall mumbled. “If—If I die...I’m glad I didn’t miss this.”

Carefully, Laguna pulled out. He shifted Squall’s hair aside to see that he’d bitten hard enough to draw blood. “Sorry about that,” he said, tiredly dropping to his side and pulling Squall down with him. After a breath or two, he rolled onto his back and leaned up on his elbows.

“Never mind.” Squall shifted so that he could drape himself over Laguna’s chest. “I’ll have to cure myself, anyway. Wouldn’t do me any good to fight in this condition.”

“Good point,” Laguna agreed, resisting a pang of guilt. He rested one arm on Squall’s back, laughed, and pillowed his head on his other arm, closing his eyes. “I’m getting too old for this,” he confessed. “You’ve worn me out.”

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, and when he woke up, Squall was gone.

*

Running his hand through his hair, Laguna typed away on his laptop, ignoring the hour as well as his hazy vision. He needed to finish his speech. There would be no time the next day, or the day after that. He had to do it then and there. Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair, glaring halfheartedly at the fuzzy screen and holding back a yawn.

Staring at the little black letters, he continued to search for more inspirational words, but they just wouldn’t come. Instead, his mind began to drift. He wondered if Squall ever had to write similar speeches these days, now that he commanded all of Garden. Smirking, he shrugged off the thought. The idea of Squall standing before hundreds or thousands of people and saying more than two words was quite amusing. Come to think of it, it was usually Selphie who spoke on behalf of Garden at public events. Good choice.

Laguna rested his cheek in his hand and blinked a couple of times. He let his mind continue on its current train of thought, imagining the commander’s beautiful eyes and soft brown hair, the perfect cut of those cheek bones, and the delicate tilt of his chin…

His head tipped forward a little more, and he barely noticed his eyes drifting closed. As he allowed himself to slide down in the bed, his hand left the keyboard and delved beneath the sheets to run over his skin, sweeping across his hips and down his thigh, trailing back up the inside.

He drew one finger up the underside of his awakening arousal, remember what Squall’s had felt and tasted like. Indulging in the whim, he teased himself a little more, and then sighed again, blearily blinking his eyes open and forcing himself to sit up.

Speech. Complete. Tonight.

Yet try as he might, Laguna couldn’t keep his thoughts on the work at hand. He briefly entertained the notion of calling Squall. What for, he didn’t know, nor how he would explain the need to wake the commander up in the early hours of the morning over in Balamb.

Laguna absently reached up to his shoulder, tracing the faint scar there that faded with every day. It was the mark Squall had left, and something he wished that he could keep at least a little longer. He'd avoided any situations that might put him in need of a healing spell since that fateful day. He caressed the spot lightly, tilting his neck to the side as he drew his fingers up his throat, over his cheek, and then down again, just below the buttoned v neck of the large shirt he wore to bed. His fingers skimmed over his nipple and he licked his lips, biting the lower one as he imagined Squall doing the same only moments before he came.

Vaguely, Laguna thought to himself that this was not a good thing. The one night he’d spent with Squall probably meant nothing to the young man. He’d wanted a taste of passion in case he died a virgin; he’d wanted someone who wouldn’t stir awkward moments on the off chance that he managed to survive. He’d wanted a one night stand. Laguna didn’t. Laguna wanted more. He wanted Squall.

He’d found the teen attractive long before they’d slept together on Squall's initiative. In fact, that one instance just made him want even more, because it wasn’t something he had dared to wish for until then. Reality was much harder to ignore than an unacknowledged, conceptual desire. Yet, Squall had accepted his affection in the most intimate way, and Laguna hadn’t yet had enough.

Closing down the laptop, he closed his eyes and rolled his head to the side, biting into his lip as he stroked himself off. When he came, he cried out into his pillow.

“Squall!”

Later, after a shower and a final burst of productivity and inspiration, his speech was finished, and he tiredly burrowed under the covers, thinking of a certain commander. However, the last face in his mind before sleep took him was that of a woman, someone he had once loved. If he remembered it in the morning, it was only to wonder if his feelings for Squall were stronger than he had imagined to evoke the memory Raine's gentle eyes.

*

“…Monster activity is decreasing rapidly, though we still have teams patrolling around the more isolated towns and roadways, and we won’t be able to move that squadron from Esthar for quite a while yet. Speaking of, President Laguna gave a statement on…”

Laguna… Why was it that Squall phased out every time he heard that name? He just couldn’t concentrate properly as soon as he thought of the man, who—naturally—seemed to come up just about every two seconds. Of course, he was the President of Esthar, and an important figure in the Post Sorceress War procedures, but it didn’t make Squall’s life any easier.

What bothered him most was that he had expected to die. He had expected that a brief fling with Laguna wouldn’t affect the rest of his life, because there wasn’t going to be a rest of his life. Yet, there was, and he had no idea how to handle the feelings that insisted on creeping up on him.

Every time he saw the gorgeous president, Squall’s heart raced a little faster and his breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that he was severely attracted to Laguna, but all he really wanted to do was to ignore it and focus on his career. Of course, that proved almost impossible when his dreams almost every night were filled with a combination of memory and fantasy. He’d wake in a sweat; hard and desperately wishing the dreams didn't have to end.

They did, though. Dreams always came to an end, and the waking world called him to duty and action.

Suddenly, Squall realized that Quistis was staring at him rather blandly, her silence rousing him where spoken recriminations had failed.

She waved a document in his face, recognizing that he was back from lala land. “If you aren’t going to listen, then at least read this.” Slamming the thick booklet onto the table, Quistis huffed and walked off. “I need your signature on every page in one hour,” she called over her shoulder.

Glaring after her, Squall picked up his pen and glared down at the booklet. He really needed to stop thinking about Laguna and start thinking about what was important.

However, a little corner of his mind insisted that Laguna was important to the teenager who dreamed of normal things like love. It was rebutted by the majority of Squall’s mind, which said that he was not—and never had been—a teenager. First and foremost, he was a SeeD commander, leading those who protected the world from evil sorceresses and the damage left in their wake.

Then again, he couldn’t deny the obvious truth that he really did like Laguna. Well, that was an understatement. Impending death or not, he wouldn’t have slept with just anyone. Laguna really was an interesting man. At his age, he was still classified as sexy, and even went so far as to be, well, cute. He had a grin that could melt Shiva and eyes that would freeze Ifrit.

What Squall was avoiding thinking about was that he really wanted to know if Laguna was interested in him as anything more than a brief fling. He wanted to know if they could have a relationship and do all those things that couples did when they were together. It was something he’d never contemplated with anyone else, but Laguna… Laguna was special.

*

Laguna sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon, but he was already sick of looking at the mountain of paper work that just wasn’t going down at all.

Suddenly, a voice sounded over the intercom. “President Loire, you have a call from a Miss Ellone on line three.

Perfect. Ellone was just the thing he needed to take his mind off the hideous amount of work that just wasn’t getting done. He picked up the phone and switched it to the correct line.

“Hello?”

“Uncle Laguna!” chirped the happy voice of his adopted daughter. “Oh, I have brilliant news!”

“Whoa there, you gonna say hi first?” he asked, chuckling. Already, he felt much more relaxed.

“You won’t believe it, Uncle Laguna! I’m telling you first because I can’t see you in person just yet... You’re going to love this!”

“What? What is it?” Naturally, his curiosity was peaked.

“Well, I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure. I mean, I was only a little kid, and I can’t remember the details too well... That’s why I went back to Winhill for a while. I knew it still had to be around there somewhere, and I found it, and, oh, I was right! I only just got back to the house, but I just had to call! I’m so excited!”

“Ellone, slow down! Found what? What are you talking about?”

“I found mum's diary, Uncle Laguna,” she said excitedly, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

“So?” Laguna asked, beginning to get frustrated.

“After you left, she found out she was pregnant. She had a son. Your son. And she named him… Squall!”

The phone slipped from his grasp to clatter upon the desk. Ellone’s muffled voice could barely be heard calling to him from the receiver. Meanwhile, her words echoed in his mind as loud as a core explosion.

_She had a son. Your son. And she named him Squall._

His mouth went dry, and his mind narrowed down to that one phrase; everything else shutting down in shock. Then, an image of Squall reared up in his mind, crying out in ecstasy as Laguna thrust into his body.

Laguna groaned, collapsing over the desk and bashing his head once, hard. Vaguely, he heard the muted inquiries trail off and the phone emmit a click, a faint dial tone coming out of it. “No,” he moaned. “No, no, no!”

*

When Ellone arrived back from her trip to Winhill, Squall was very glad to see her. If he could talk to anyone about Laguna, it was her. However, before he got a chance to speak to her alone, she asked that everyone meet in his office because she had news for them.

Naturally, the whole gang was curious and showed up promptly. Even Seifer who seemed to have taken a liking to Ellone—much to Squall’s silent and brooding distress.

First, she greeted them all with hugs, giving Squall an extra tight squeeze before moving on to Selphie. Then, she suggested they all sit down, saying that they’d probably need to.

“As you all know, I just got back from Winhill. I went there searching for something…and I found it. I’m sure you’re wondering why this concerns you all… Well, it doesn’t, really. I thought it would be nice for Squall if everyone was here, though. I mean, it’s going to be a bit of a shock and all. It didn't go so well with—”

“Ellone, darling… What are you trying to tell us?” Irvine asked sweetly.

“Sorry. Well, I went to Winhill because I needed to verify the facts in case my memory was faulty...but it wasn’t. I found mom's—Raine’s—diary, and now I know that what I’m going to tell you is right. This is going to be hard to believe. I mean, even I have trouble believing it... Though, when I look for it, I can see…” She squinted at Squall. “Mhmm, it’s all in the eyes. At first, I still thought I might be wrong, but all I have to do is look at you to see that I’m not. Well, if I look closely that is. After all-”

“Ellone, get to the point already! What is it?” Zell prodded impatiently.

She nodded and smiled. “I know that all you have is my word and the little evidence in mom's diary, but it totally jogged my memory and I remember it more clearly now.” She took the diary out of her little pouch. “You can have this, Squall, if you don’t believe me. I… Well—”

“Ellone,” Quistis sighed, reminding the overenthusiastic young woman of her purpose.

“Right. Are you ready for this?” Ellone perched on the edge of her seat, her eyes fixed on Squall and a grin twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Squall… Laguna is your father.”

The silence in the room was palpable. Everyone was either staring in shock at Ellone or at Squall; the former grinning brightly, and the latter disturbingly blank-faced. Seeing the darkening expression on her little brother’s face, Ellone’s grin slowly faded.

Squall’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed. He stood up and walked straight out of the room, oblivious to the chorus of concerned voices questioning after him. He didn’t stop walking. He paced in the elevator, continuing past the mobs hanging around in the lobby, not stopping for anyone who tried to talk to him. If he didn’t stop, he didn’t have to think. He made it all the way to his dormitory, paced a couple of steps, and then wound to a halt, his whole body beginning to shake.

He couldn’t tell whether it was rage, depression, confusion, or just plain old suppressed laughter. His head fell forward until his chin bumped against his chest. His eyes were squeezed lightly shut and all he could manage were little gasps of breath. His hands gripped his arms tightly in an effort to still the violent trembling.

It was an overreaction. He knew that his body was interpreting what his mind could not. It was telling him that this was a bad, bad, fucked up situation, when his mind refused to acknowledge it.

He wasn’t sure just how long he stood there, trying not to break, but eventually he fell to his knees, rocking forward and gasping for breath. There was no way it could be true, and yet he knew it was. The one thing Squall had had to cling to as a child was his ‘sis’; the only remnant of a family he never knew—a remnant that was torn away from him, leaving him completely and utterly alone.

He’d always felt a deep ache in his heart when other students had talked about the families they’d lost. At least they could remember them. As far as Squall had been concerned, he had no father and no mother. He was an orphan. He was alone. That’s why he’d gone to Laguna. He didn’t want to die alone.

“Fuck,” he whispered as the shaking slowly subsided.

A father, a parent... That was what he’d yearned for his whole life; someone to comfort him, to tell him what to do. Having no one like that, he’d looked to his career. The rules and regulations were perfect for him. They taught him boundaries, ‘dos’ and ‘don'ts’, all the things a parent should teach their child. They taught him self restraint... The very thing he’d broken with Laguna.

_My father._

_Laguna fucking Loire...is my father. I always wanted… And now..._

_This is surreal. It can’t be true. It can’t be reality._

_I was so afraid back then. I’d never been with a man before, and yet I let him take me._ _I wanted to be with him. I wanted him... I still do._

_He’s gorgeous. There are so many things about him that draw me._

_They say that opposites attract. He’s annoying, quirky, and acts like a fool sometimes_ — _an incompetent fool. I should hate him. He’s the type of person who really should bug me...but he doesn’t._ _Perhaps that’s because I’m a part of him._

_No. That sounds stupid. Sappy thoughts like that just don’t fit._

_I understand the way I should feel toward my father. I know that there should be a certain bond between us, and...there almost is, but...it’s drowned out by that other something. The lust I feel every time I look at him. The fluttering when he smiles._

_I wouldn’t quite say that I love him, either way, but I do like him a lot. I do want him. I do want to be with him._

_And here we, are back at the beginning, because that’s the problem, isn’t it? I want to be with my own father. I want to touch, hold, kiss, romance, and ultimately be screwed senseless by my own father. Part of me feels sick at that thought, but another part of me just doesn’t care. I’m afraid to find out which will win._

Analyzing the situation helped Squall to calm the immediate and urgent sense of panic. His breathing evened out, and his limbs stopped trembling, leaving him feeling weak and tired. It was only the middle of the day, and as much as he longed to go straight to bed and stop thinking entirely, he still had a job to do, even if he wasn’t sure he could face the others just yet.

He needed to take some time off to think. He needed to let himself come to terms with everything Ellone’s revelation changed, implied, and otherwise destroyed. However, being who he was, the thought of admitting he wasn’t fit to work never even crossed his mind.

So, he continued. For three days, he brushed off his friends' inquiries toward his health and general well-being. He convinced them that he was fine and had simply been shocked—at least, he thought he’d convinced them. When a situation requiring his immediate attention occurred, he rushed into it—anything to distract him from the constant shadow lurking in his mind.

Yet, in the end, he couldn’t hide at night, or in the quiet moments in which he was left alone. He usually reveled in those, but he learned to fear them, because then he had no excuse not to think about Laguna and the general topic of incest.

Squall wasn’t okay, and there would soon come a point where he would have to admit that to himself.


	3. Part Two

Squall had been all but terrified during the long flight to Esthar. He’d felt nauseous during the elevator ride to Laguna’s floor. He’d wanted to run once he saw the name plaque hanging on the man’s door.

Staring his father in the eyes, he wanted to curl up and disappear.

“Squall,” Laguna said quietly, getting uncertainly to his feet.

“La-Laguna,” Squall stuttered. He knew he probably sounded like an idiot and he felt himself start to blush. Suddenly, he realized how warm he was and in the next moment, began to feel slightly unsteady on his feet.

Laguna frowned, coming out from behind his desk and approaching Squall. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out.

“I’m fine,” Squall snapped abruptly, swaying a little as he pulled back from his father. “I... I came to talk to you.”

“Squall, you don’t look too well.” Laguna’s frown deepened, though he drew his hand back.

Taking a deep breath, Squall closed his eyes. “What do you expect?” he hissed.

When he opened his eyes again, Laguna was biting his lip. He then turned away slowly, so that all Squall could see was his back.

“Then you know,” Laguna whispered. There was a long pause whilst the man ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I... You're…?” Squall was furious with himself. He wanted to be his normal stoic and calm self, even if he was reeling on the inside, but he just couldn’t gain control. If only he wasn’t feeling so sick. If only he didn’t want to cry. "You're sorry?" Eventually, he backed up to the wall and slid down it, leaning heavily into it for support. “How could you?” he asked, proud that his voice finally sounded more confident. “How-?”

“I didn’t know,” Laguna answered, cutting him off. He turned back around slowly, still avoiding Squall’s eyes. “I… You reminded me of her. I didn’t realize why, at the time, but your eyes, your lips, your nose… I can see her in you, and…I can see myself.” Finally, his eyes came to rest on Squall’s face.

Those words threatened to make Squall cry; something he didn’t remember having done before, whether the truth was that he just didn’t cry, or because the G.F.s had stolen away those memories. He brought his gloved hand up to cover his face, to hide it from his father, lest the man see his struggle to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m fine. Just... Just-” Before he could protest, there were arms around him, holding him close, and he had to bite his lip to choke back a sob.

“Squall, I’m sorry. This is my fault. This is all my fault. Everything is my fault,” Laguna breathed desperately, holding him tightly—almost choking him. “If I hadn’t left her, everything would be different. If I’d at least known, I never would have… Squall, I’m so sorry! I want to make up for it all, but I don’t know how.”

Biting hard on the inner wall of his lip, Squall let the hurt wash over him and finally gained control over the tears, which reverted from emotional stress to a reaction from stinging pain. Having accomplished this, he pushed Laguna away roughly. “Stop it,” he growled. “You can’t start acting like a father now.” He got to his feet, using the wall to help him stand. “You can’t be a parent after all these years… After what happened!”

Laguna stayed where he was, sprawled on the floor. He stared fixedly at the carpet where Squall had just been sitting. “Did you come here just to say that?”

“I don’t know,” Squall replied. “I don’t know why I’m here, but it wasn’t to hear you apologize,” he spat. “I wanted… I want…” He searched for a reason—any plausible reason—but nothing came to mind. “I don’t know!” He dropped to his knees again, crouching somewhat defensively. After a long, sullen silence between them, he finally relaxed his stern expression as he looked at Laguna—his father. “It wasn’t your fault, though,” he mumbled, a little reluctantly. “If… If you didn’t know, then-”

“I should have,” Laguna whispered.

“That’s not the point.” Squall looked back at him, his jaw clenched tightly before he sighed and let his body relax. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he said. “Hyne, I feel sick,” he gasped, supporting his head in his hands as the angry fervor washed away, leaving him with the nausea again. “Damn.”

“Squall,” Laguna began, as he slowly sat up again, “I think you’re suffering from shock.” Slowly, almost painedly, Squall lifted his head, glaring daggers. “Of course. That was a stupid observation.” Laguna sighed bitterly, pushing himself up before holding out a hand. “Look, I’m not good at these things, but we should talk; properly.”

Nodding, Squall let the man help him up and guide him over to the window seat. He gladly rested his forehead against the cool glass, letting it sooth him somewhat.

Down below, he could see hundreds of little people scurrying about with their daily chores. Mercifully forgetting the situation for a few moments, he pressed a hand to the glass, wondering if their lives were full of nasty complications and revelations as they carried on with all they had to do.

“Is it wrong to feel the way I do?” he whispered. “I know it is, but I don’t feel as if it is.”

“It is wrong,” Laguna confirmed, almost startling Squall with the reminder of his presence. “But I understand what you mean.”

“I feel guilty,” Squall confessed, “And I hate that.” After a long pause, he reached across a little way to wrap Laguna’s fingers in his own, still staring out at the busy street below. “I was going to let myself take a chance. I wanted to let myself try and be happy…with you. Is there someone or something out there that hates me enough to screw my life over in every way possible?”

Laguna gasped, hitting a nerve in Squall that made him babble on to try and lessen the self-pity of those words.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I figured that after everything that’s happened, I can talk to you without being judged. That’s what I’m afraid of, you know.” His tone was disturbingly flat and cold. “I’m afraid that people won’t like me if I leave them with the choice.”

*

The spoken thoughts caught Laguna by surprise and he felt as though he was the first person to see this side of Squall. Even during their brief fling, nothing personal had been shared. It was just a one night stand, barely more than meaningless since there was every chance that they’d all die.

Yet now… Squall was talking to him, and what he heard scared him.

“I was going to let myself take a chance. I wanted to let myself try and be happy…with you. Is there someone or something out there that hates me enough to screw my life over in every way possible?”

Those were not good words, and the way they were spoken…

A shiver ran down Laguna’s spine. There was a lot that bothered him in those few thoughts alone.

First of all, Squall’s voice sounded dead and flat as he reflected on that dark idea. Secondly, the fact that Squall had been open to the idea of a relationship with him only to find out about…their existing relationship… That was a deep blow for anyone, let alone someone so self isolated. Thirdly, it bothered Laguna that he wanted to forget every moral and ethic that had been trained into him, and hold Squall in his arms and tell him that it didn’t matter that they were father and son. The man in him wanted the man named Squall—badly—but there was no way he could confess that. They were treading in very dangerous waters.

“Squall,” he whispered, not knowing what else he could possibly say without crossing thin and painful lines.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I figured that after everything that’s happened, I can talk to you without being judged. That’s what I’m afraid of, you know. I’m afraid that people won’t like me if I leave them with the choice.”

He couldn’t stand it. He didn’t want to hear any more. Laguna reached out and pulled Squall close, holding his…son...against his chest, despite a token struggle.

“Please don’t say things like that,” he begged. “I don’t know what to do. There are things that I want to tell you, but I’m afraid of what you might think or what I might do. I don’t want you to hurt so badly. I don’t want you to hurt at all, Squall. Please… Don’t beat yourself up over this. I’m not worth it!”

Before he even knew what was happening, Laguna was staring into those amazing blue eyes. Before he could wonder, hope, or worry, Squall was kissing him.

The younger man’s eyes were half lidded whilst his own were widened in what must have been comical shock. It only got worse as Squall’s eyes slid closed and a sinuous tongue manipulated it’s way between lips and teeth to explore his mouth.

A groan escaped him, and there was nothing he could do. He wanted to pull away, but he wanted more to push back, let his tongue dance with Squall’s, and entwine his hands in the SeeD commander’s hair... So he did.

Then, Squall was pushing him down and they both readjusted so that Laguna had one leg on the window seat and one resting on the floor. It was uncomfortable, slightly painful, and extremely dangerous. Anyone could walk in, anyone with good eyes could see them from the street below, but Laguna couldn’t remember all this. He couldn’t remember why it was a bad idea, and why his better sense was screaming at him to stop.

His hands were tangled in Squall’s hair and his leg hooked around one of the commander’s. It was easy to buck his hips up to meet and graze against an answering erection, and he parted from the kiss to gasp.

“Squall,” he moaned, and then realized that everything had frozen.

*

He hadn’t meant for this to happen at all. Okay, well maybe he had, but subconscious didn’t count.

“Laguna,” Squall said slowly, staring down at the man beneath him, whose expression slowly changed from one of pleasure to one of confusion and sudden realization.

Immediately, Squall was all too aware of several things. He was kissing a man who he knew to be his father, he was still hard even after remembering this, he was slightly turned on by this, and he was in way over his head.

He swore, attempting to move, when his erection brushed against Laguna’s and he froze again. A frustrated growl slipped past his lips. “This is all your fault,” he accused, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Hey, you started this,” Laguna snapped back, a blush coloring his cheeks.

“I did not. You started it all in the first place, and besides, you should have pushed me away! If you didn’t want this, it wouldn’t have happened. You should have-”

“Is that why you came here?” Laguna asked, very quietly. His voice was probably meant to be veiled and mysterious, but it just came off as downright sexy, emphasized by the way his hair spilled around him and the stain of pink gracing his cheeks. “Did you come here so I would reject you?”

Squall didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He was too busy considering the question, and realizing that it was probably the truth.

“You couldn’t work, or concentrate, so you thought you’d leave it all in my hands… Closure, right? If I pushed you away then you could go back to your neat little life.”

This was a rare moment for Laguna. The flash of insight was probably spot on, and fucking hell if it didn’t hurt.

“I guess you overlooked my feelings, huh? Didn’t think I might feel the same way, did you? Well, I don’t want to reject you, Squall. I should, but I don’t want to. Call it love, call it lust, call it perversion, or whatever the hell you want, but I can’t push you away. It’s up to you to walk away, because I can’t do it.”

That was totally fair; a fair, and good idea. It made perfect sense.

“I don’t want to,” Squall whispered.

“Then I guess we have a problem,” Laguna asserted.

“I guess we do.” Squall rested down onto his elbows, taking the weight off of his wrists since it seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere just yet. However, the action caused his hardness to rub against Laguna’s once more, and he tried to hush a groan, but ending up gasping instead.

“I get it,” Laguna said suddenly. “You’re trying to kill me. This is an assassination attempt. Death by stress.”

In spite of himself, a muffled bark of laughter bubbled up in Squall’s chest. He laughed again, burying his face in Laguna’s shirt in an attempt to quiet it. The man shifted uncomfortably beneath him, and the brief spark of pleasure to his groin urged yet another peal of laughter.

“This isn’t working at all, is it?” he asked at last, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Somewhat reluctantly, he awkwardly untangled himself from the President of Esthar, and slumped to the floor against the window seat, his back to the world outside of that window. “I don’t know what to do,” he said honestly, throwing his hands up in the air. For the first time in his memory, he felt absolutely helpless. “I think I really care about you. I’d shrug and try to find someone else, but the only other person I’ve ever felt for is Rinoa, and now I realize the difference between that infatuation, and…and this. Please, Laguna, tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do, because I thought I was coming here to put an end to the tension I haven’t been able to shake since I found out...but now everything is ten times worse because I know it doesn’t bother me. Well... It does bother me, but... Argh! You know what I mean!”

*

All Laguna could do was stare incredulously. The day was turning out one surprise after the next. This rambling was bordering on hysterical, and never in a million years had Laguna expected to hear such a thing from the stoic SeeD commander who had saved the world.

That thought made him frown. Squall really had saved the world. The entire fucking world had been in grave peril only a short while ago, and here they were going insane over a stupid thing like incest. Well, okay, it wasn’t that stupid, but in comparison, it wasn’t that big of a deal, either. Of course...that was a rather cockeyed way to look at things, and Laguna wasn’t quite sure that he was entirely rational himself.

“I do know," he finally agreed, swinging his feet around to rest on the floor. He gave in to temptation and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Squall’s shoulders and resting his chin on the commander’s head. “I wish I didn’t, but I do. The idea of loving you against the rules of society doesn’t disgust me like I wish it would.”

“This is hopeless, Laguna,” Squall whispered, resting back into the loose embrace. “I’m going insane, and I’m not even sure I know why. I just want to be with you. For once in my life, I want something, and it’s the one thing I just can’t have.”

“Well, you could,” Laguna felt compelled to point out, “But it would be wrong. Very wrong.”

“Then why can’t I tell the difference between wrong and right?”

"Because it’s not wrong. No, it is, of course. I just mean... You and I haven’t spent our lives as father and son. When we met, we were just two men, and...we still are.”

“No, we’re not,” Squall moaned. He was confused and hurting, and all he wanted was to curl up in Laguna’s arms. “Everything has changed.”

“But that’s the problem,” Laguna continued quietly. “It hasn’t, Squall. We’ve always been father and son, although we didn’t know it, and we were already something more before we found out. Somewhere along the lines, something isn’t going to fit.”

“Laguna…” Squall closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath. “What...? Are you saying that—?”

“I’m not sure.” Slipping off of the window seat, Laguna curled his legs beneath him, circling his arms around Squall’s waist. “I’m not sure at all, but you know what? I’m already lost. The moment you walked in here today, I was lost. I can’t even be bothered to feel guilty right now. You deserve a little bit of happiness, and if I can give that to you, then just tell me right now.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Squall whispered, and his face held the most adorable expression, as though he had to finish explaining before he could be allowed to have his heart's desire. “This isn’t what I had in mind.” He closed his eyes, as though fighting off the last semblance of regret. “Laguna…”

There was so much more that could be said on either of their parts, but both knew that it just didn’t matter anymore, not at this moment.

When Squall’s eyes opened again, his gaze had lost the fear and confusion. He voiced one last doubt. “Can you risk this?”

Laguna caressed his cheek softly, smiling a little. “I left Raine for something that seemed important, and look what happened. I won’t make that same mistake again. There is nothing to risk.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, each waiting for the other to run. Then, Squall leaned in, his lips pressing softly against Laguna’s in their first intentional dismissal of the codes of morals, ethics, and anything else that might stand in their way.

Gently, sweetly, Laguna parted his lips as just the tip of Squall’s tongue ran over his teeth. It was the softest kiss he’d ever experienced; not hesitant, but not forceful. Even as it deepened, that element of purity caused tears to slip down his cheeks. He felt Squall’s breath tickle his face, and reveled in the exquisite sensation of the supple palate and lips that he tasted and explored. A distinct lightness lifted his heart, and for the first time since learning of Raine’s death, he felt truly happy.

When Laguna pulled away at last, Squall’s hand lifted to cup his cheek, the thumb brushing away a trail of moisture. “I think I just fell in love with you,” Squall whispered, a suspicious wetness glimmering in his own eyes.

“Squall… You’ll be the death of me yet.” Suddenly, the tears flowed over and Laguna buried his face against Squall’s shoulder, clinging to the commander’s arms and sobbing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I just… It’s been so stressful, and I… I... You’re here, and now…”

Squall’s arms awkwardly slid around his shoulders and held him close. “It’s okay. I know. I was scared and confused...and I had no idea what would happen if I came today, but I’m glad I did. I don’t think I could have gone on the way things were.”

Abruptly, Laguna’s tears became ragged laughter and he hugged Squall fiercely. “I needed this, Squall. If I'm honest... I think I fell in love with you the moment we met.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes until both had their thoughts and emotions back under a vague semblance of normalcy. Laguna decided that there was no place he’d rather be than where he was, in Squall’s arms, and so he cherished the moment, holding on for dear life. He couldn’t quite neglect the part of him that insisted it was wrong and that he should feel guilty, but the rest of him easily felt happier than he had in a long, long time.

“So, what happens now?” Squall asked quietly, breaking the calm that had settled over them.

Laguna noticed him bite his lip again, and frowned. He almost fancied that that was a habit Squall had picked up from him, but that was silly. Then again, Squall had been in Laguna’s mind on more than one occasion.

Remembering that he had been asked a question, he considered it for a moment. “I don’t know, but as long as you’re in my life, I don’t care.”

“I like that answer.”

Pulling back a little, Laguna caught the smile on Squall’s face. It was the first time he’d ever seen it. “You should do that more often,” he said, placing a tiny peck to the corner of Squall’s mouth.

“If you give me reason to, then maybe I will.” Squall’s voice was light and almost teasing. That made Laguna feel even better—resolved in his admittedly bad decision.

“I’ll make it my personal mission,” he vowed, grinning and pulling away so they could both get to their feet.

When they were standing, Laguna held on to Squall’s hand. He didn’t want to let go. He knew he was grinning his goofiest grin, but it was worth it to see the little turn up at the corner of the stoic commander’s mouth.

“I have to go back to Garden today, but-”

“I’ll come and visit you,” Laguna cut in. “I’m due for a break, anyway.”

“I…” Squall looked toward the door and then back at Laguna. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it wasn’t quite comfortable, either. They both needed to sort out their thoughts and feelings after the emotional roller coaster the morning had become, but neither really wanted to be separated. “I guess, I’ll see you then.”

Laguna threaded his fingers through Squall’s and used the grip to pull him closer, cupping his other hand around the base of the commander’s neck. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, initiating one last kiss before Squall pulled back and nodded. He walked away, pausing briefly at the door to turn and smile once more, and then he was gone.

Laguna stared after him for the longest time, until his secretary came in to collect his lunch order. The intrusion into his own little world of swirling emotions brought him crashing back to reality and he realized that he had a lot of work to do before the day was done. He’d never get down to the Garden to see Squall if he didn’t get through the piles of regulations and propositions on his plate.

*

The flight back to Garden was decidedly more bearable, and Squall felt himself continue to smile for most of the way. Every now and then, he’d touch his fingers to his lips, hardly believing what had happened. Everything up until that morning felt like a sordid dream. The stress he’d been through melted away with that one, beautiful kiss.

It didn’t matter that Laguna was his father, simply because he had decided that he didn’t care. He hadn’t ever felt as happy as he had sitting on the floor of the president’s office, holding the man in his arms. That feeling was something he never wanted to lose. How could something that made his heart race with elation be as bad as society said it was? In the end, all that mattered was that Squall was in love for the first time in his life, and he was in love with someone who loved him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several chapters are in final editing and will be posted upon completion.


	4. Part Three

When Squall arrived back at Garden, Selphie pounced on him just as he entered the gate. “So, how did it go?” she asked. “You went to see Laguna, right? How is he? Is everything in Esthar all right? Is he stressed or overworked?”

The barrage of questions would normally have irritated him, but not then. “The president is fine, Esthar is fine, and Laguna will be coming to our Garden for a break some time soon,” he answered.

“He will?” Selphie gasped. “That’s wonderful! We’ll have to throw a ball in his honor! Oh, wait till I tell Rinoa!” Selphie began to skip off, but paused, throwing a wink over her shoulder. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood,” she called.

Briefly, Squall wondered if he should do something about that before anyone else picked up on it. He couldn’t let his staff think he’d gone soft. Then again, even they deserved a break once in a while.

*

A week later, the Garden was in full swing party mode. Decorations had been set up, music organized, party dresses bought, and dates arranged. All that was left was the arrival of the guest of honor. The president was due around midday, and the ball would take place that night.

The mood was unmistakable. Selphie was practically bouncing off the walls; Zel was grinning like an idiot—having scored a date with Quistis, who had been tricked into agreeing; Irvine had this smug atmosphere about him, as if the event were being held simply for his womanizing pleasure; Seifer was scowling even more than usual and cringed every time "party," "fun," or "date" was mentioned; Quistis was trying to act like she was excited, but everyone except Zel could see that she was annoyed with the situation; and Rinoa... Well, Rinoa was too damn chirpy for her own good. She’d asked Squall about a million times if he would go with her, changing her tactic with each new attempt. Every time, Squall had said no. Apart from the fact that he already had a date—though he couldn’t let her know that—he wasn’t too keen on the ball idea in the first place. It meant dressing up and spending at least two hours being polite when all you wanted to do was go to bed. It didn’t help that he wanted nothing but to spend the entire night alone with Laguna. It would be the first time they saw each other since Squall had flown to Esthar. In truth, he was a little nervous about it all.

What if Laguna had come to his senses and decided to call the whole thing off? What would happen if they got caught doing or saying something they shouldn’t?

After those thoughts occurred to him, Squall began to wonder when he had started caring what people thought about him. That was when he realized that he did care what his friends thought, and proceeded to fret on how they would react if they found out.

Before he could work himself up enough to call the entire thing off, he reminded himself that he was thinking way too far ahead, and then paused a moment just to think of Laguna.

Yes. It was right for them to be together. The quietly growing love Squall felt for Laguna was something he’d never expected to experience, and there was no risk too great to make him change his mind. He just hoped that Laguna felt the same way.

However, the time for contemplation was over. Xu’s voice sounded over the speaker system, calling him to the front gate to meet the presidential party. As he made his way there, Squall noticed his hands begin to sweat slightly and his spine stiffen. He wiped his palms on his pants and continued on, holding his head high.

He reached the entrance just as Laguna and Ward strolled down through the courtyard. Kiros would be staying in Esthar to handle any minor problems whilst the president was away.

Squall couldn’t keep a small smile from his face once he caught Laguna’s grin. He felt warmed at the sight of it and almost sighed unconsciously as the fear and tension he’d been feeling melted away.

Quistis was already there, meeting them halfway, so Squall walked out into the sun, trying not to smile too widely. They exchanged a quick, formal greeting, and then Laguna bounded forward and swept Squall up into a tight hug, taking him by surprise.

At first, Squall’s eyes widened in panic and his breath hitched, but then he remembered that to the public world, Laguna was just a father making up for time with his long lost son. He relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve missed you,” Laguna whispered quietly into his ear, the gesture so sensual and yet so innocent that Squall was forced to fight down a blush.

He nodded and whispered back so that only Laguna could hear, “Same here.”

Then, they pulled away, and the world resumed around them. Quistis insisted on escorting Laguna and Ward to their rooms, and practically marched Squall back to his office to finish signing off on the security preparations for the ball. Knowing that he wouldn’t get a chance to be alone with Laguna yet, he did as he was told with the intention of working away the hours until he could see the man again.

At six o’clock, he went to his dormitory and changed into his best uniform, checking himself in the mirror in a self-conscious light that was new to him. The scar caught his eye immediately. For the first time, he considered it an eyesore. He had never cared about the impact on his appearance, but now he saw how it marred his looks. Without it... He would look more feminine. Would he resemble Raine, then...? Would Laguna like that? Or would it bother him? He had claimed to like the scar, saying it made Squall look sexier... Was that because it gave him a more rugged, manly appearance?

Frustrated with his pointless musings, Squall ran a hand through his hair. A moment later, he growled, and furiously began pawing at it, setting it back into place. He even went so far as to try and straighten out the invisible wrinkles in his uniform. By the time he was satisfied, the hour had come for him to make his appearance at the ball.

As he walked through the Quad, whispers and mutterings hissed in his ears from the students around him. He found Quistis first, and she kindly pointed out the president’s location.

Laguna was standing on the other side of the gathering, by the punch bowl. He looked absolutely breathtaking in his black suit. The color shifted under the light, the hint of blue offsetting his dark hair, which was pulled back from his face. He was smiling and laughing, and from afar, he seemed like prince charming wooing a fine young princess.

However, as he took a sip of his champagne, his eyes bypassed the crowd to lock onto Squall’s. Promising the girl a dance, he moved away and Squall met him halfway.

“Would you care to dance?” Laguna asked, flourishing a courtly bow.

Squall’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to berate the careless action when Selphie appeared over his shoulder, placing his hand in Laguna’s. “Oh, come on!” she whined. “How often will we get a photo opp like this for the family album? After all, there are a lot of events to make up for.”

He scowled at her, but before Squall could say anything, Laguna pulled him close and a waltz began to play. The floor cleared of its majority of couples, and soon there was enough space for Squall to be whirled around the room in a dizzying arc. He forgot that his students were watching, he forgot that he was allowing Laguna to lead, and he forgot that he was meant to be angry. Instead, the motions of his feet carried him in an adrenaline-filled haze. When it came down to it, dancing could really be fun with the right partner, and it seemed that Squall’s was perfect in every way. Well, perfect was going a little far, but he was competent, at least…despite appearances.

Squall couldn’t tear his eyes from Laguna’s if it cost him his life, and it seemed as though the dance would never end but simply whirl on forever. When it finally did end, he stumbled back a little, dizzy and out of breath. Running a hand through his hair, he blinked a couple of times until his eyes came back into focus. That was when he realized that the audience Laguna was bowing to was the entire Garden body, applauding and laughing.

The understanding that they were not at all alone finally came back to Squall’s mind, and he was suddenly terrified that in the haze of being swept away, he’d worn his heart on his sleeve.

Before anything more disastrous could happen, he cleared his throat and waded through a sea of bodies until he felt the cool night air caress his flushed cheeks.

“Squall?”

It was Laguna’s voice, coming from just behind him. A hand rested on his waist and he pushed it away automatically. It retracted as if burned, and when he looked up, Squall could see concern in Laguna’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, beginning to walk. “Just… Not here.”

Frowning, the president followed him. “I just figured that no one would know. We’re entitled to be close, Squall.”

“And that’s hard enough to get used to,” Squall hissed, and then immediately regretted it. When they were clear of the shouts, laughs, and mutterings, Squall sighed and stopped, not turning to face Laguna just yet. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he explained sullenly. “I just… It’s all so complicated. I had a hard enough time accepting my feelings for you, and now I’m expected to have a whole new set of feelings when I haven’t even sorted out the original ones. I’m still lost somewhere between them. On top of that, if anyone found out…”

“If anyone found out, then Esthar would have to find a new president. Too bad for them.” Laguna reached out and grabbed Squall’s shoulder, spinning him around. “I thought we’ve been through this already. I love you, Squall, and I don’t care what the world thinks. They can go jump, because you’re the only one who matters.”

Of all the things that Squall could have said, he looked up into Laguna’s eyes and suddenly lost his entire vocabulary except for one, pathetic word. “Really?” he whispered.

“Really,” Laguna answered. And then, heedless of who might walk past and catch them, his lips descended upon Squall’s.

*

Irvine let himself get dragged from the crowd, the pretty brunette facing him and swinging their joined hands from side to side as she backed toward a less populated area. He peered over her shoulder and around the corner…and froze. What he saw was unbelievable.

Laguna. Kissing Squall...in a very non-fatherly kind of way. And Squall was letting him. Squall. Mr. Ice-in-My-Pants commanding officer. Mr. Untouchable.

Irvine would give anything for one moment of Squall’s unguarded time. He wanted to be the one kissing the gorgeous commander, not… Not Laguna… Squall’s father.

The girl... What was her name...? Elyssa. She was still trying to tug him back. Panic suddenly flooded through Irvine and his first thought was to protect Squall.

“You know what? I’m still thirsty. Let’s go back,” he said loudly, and then tried to turn and pull her back the other way, but she wouldn’t allow that.

“Oh, but Irvy, honey, I don’t want to.” She leaned closer to whisper into his ear, trying to be seductive. “I’m thirsty for you.”

That cheesy line almost caused Irvine to lose all interest in her, but he suddenly realized that it wouldn’t be enough just to keep her from rounding the corner. He had to keep other students and staff away as well. So, he did the only thing he knew how to. He grabbed Elyssa and kissed her hard, until she was weak in the knees and couldn’t protest even if she wanted to. He hoped that would stop anyone from continuing past them; that they would opt to take the long way instead, to avoid an embarrassing confrontation.

To his relief, he heard whispering, and then two sets of footsteps heading away. By that time, Elyssa had already begun to unbutton his shirt, so he decided to finish what he had started, and nudged her around the corner and against the hedge where they might be overlooked in the shadows. However, his mind was still focused on what he’d seen, and why, how, and when it had begun.

*

“That was too close for comfort,” Laguna breathed when they were back inside the garden, heading toward Squall’s dormitory.

“What happened to ‘the world can go jump?’,” Squall scoffed.

“Well, yeah, but better safe than sorry. If we’d gotten caught it would apply, but since we didn’t…”

“Are you so sure about that?” Squall asked, sounding worried. “That was Irvine’s voice. What if-?”

“Squall.” Laguna took the key and unlocked the dorm-room door, pushing him through it. “We’ll worry about that later. Irvine is your friend, right? If he did see, he didn’t say anything, so that’s a promising sign.”

Squall sighed and leaned back against Laguna whose arms wound around his waist. “You’re right,” he said. Then, after a long pause, he turned his head so that he could see Laguna out of the corner of his eye. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Laguna answered, shifting his hold just enough for a kiss. It was clumsy at the odd angle, but definitely sweet.

Squall turned fully, and wrapped his arms around Laguna’s neck, pressing his body tightly against his partner’s. He allowed his tongue to delve deeper, his lips firmly locked with Laguna’s as his hips rocked softly back and forth.

The president moaned into his mouth, his hands tangling in Squall’s hair, holding him in place so that he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. Their tongues worked against each other, tasting and caressing, and each man grew more aroused with every subtle shift of friction between their bodies.

Finally, Laguna broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against Squall’s. The president’s cheeks were pink, and his lips were reddened and slightly swollen. He looked positively edible in that moment.

“Laguna...” Squall moaned, lifting his hand to brush it across the man’s flushed cheek. “I was afraid you’d change your mind,” he said quietly.

“Never,” Laguna swore, his lashes fluttering open to reveal eyes darkened in intensity by lust. “You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

That was all Squall needed to hear, and he stripped off his jacket, throwing it aside as he made his way to the bedroom. By the time he reached it, he had shed his shirt as well, and undone the belt and button of his pants. Laguna’s jacket was also gone, and his black undershirt was halfway off before Squall attacked his abdomen, caressing it with the tips of his fingers and then running his tongue over the hard muscles beneath smooth skin. He kissed his way up Laguna’s stomach and chest, detouring along his jaw, and finished in a nibble on the man’s ear.

By that point, his own pants had mysteriously disappeared, and he’d managed to push Laguna’s down past his hips. They were soon gone, and both men were completely naked.

Laguna pushed Squall down onto the bed and crawled over him, kissing him again while Squall blindly fumbled beneath his bed until his hand connected with something cool and plastic. He grinned in triumph as he lifted it up into Laguna’s view, and then blushed at the amused grin spreading over his partner’s lips.

Sitting back, Laguna took the tube of lubricant and spilled a little on his fingers, dragging them down Squall’s chest and causing him to gasp at the cool, liquid touch. His nails briefly trailed over Squall’s erection, and then more lube was poured over his fingers and they delved between the commander’s thighs, circling his entrance before the first pushed in.

*

The preparation was easier this time, and Squall was soon relaxed but for his fists balled in the sheets. He moaned once, and then begged Laguna to hurry up.

How could a man not oblige? Hurrying the process, he soon spread a generous amount of lubricant over his own erection and leaned over Squall, brushing thick brown bangs out of the commander’s eyes. “You’re so damn gorgeous,” he whispered, pressing a neat little kiss to Squall’s forehead as he lifted Squall’s legs to hook over his shoulders, knowing the limber soldier could handle the position. “I’ll never get enough of you.” He began to push into the tight body that welcomed him.

Squall moaned Laguna’s name loudly in a choked-off cry, arching his neck backward so that his hair splayed out around him like a soft and silky mane. That was a look that Laguna wanted to see again and again. He slowly pressed himself deeper and deeper inside, until he was in as far as Squall could take him, and then he fixed his gaze on the commander’s expression, searching for traces of pain or pleasure.

He found a little of both there, but Squall opened his eyes slowly, and nodded, urging Laguna on. Obliging, he drew back, pulling almost out of Squall’s body before slowly pushing in again. He continued that way for several long, slowly thrusts, until he saw the beginnings of a smile on Squall’s face. Then, he began to speed up, delighted in the little mewl of pleasure that escaped past Squall’s lips. He was sure that the cool, calm, and confident commander hadn’t even noticed it, and was determined to wring out another of those delectable sounds.

Experimenting with angles, Laguna leaned further forward, so that he was driving down into Squall’s ass which now stuck up into the air, receiving every thrust as they grew in intensity, one by one. A particularly deep plunge wrung a loud cry from the commander, and Laguna aimed for that same spot from that moment on, drawing a sound of pleasure each and every time, until the ecstasy could build no more. Squall came, covering both of their lower bodies in his essence, his muscles clamping down around Laguna, whose eyes squeezed tightly closed with his own orgasm.

He collapsed over Squall’s chest, his own breath heaving as he felt the body beneath him rise and fall with the workings of its lungs. Both of their bodies were slick with sweat, and both were worn out from the arduous exercise.

Despite his exhaustion, Laguna flopped one arm up so that he could feel Squall’s hair between his fingers, and then, as an afterthought, dragged himself closer for another kiss. This one was tired and sloppy, but no less appreciated, and when he pulled away, Squall maneuvered into his embrace, using his chest as a pillow.

Sleep wasn’t quite impending, but neither was wakefulness completely welcome. Drifting in that sweet between, where the only world that existed was the young man in Laguna’s arms, life was absolutely perfect.

*

Unfortunately for Irvine, he simply could not get what he’d seen out of his mind. As he finished things up with Elyssa, the one in his thoughts was Squall. Jealousy welled up within him, and when he was done, he left the girl, stumbling from the bushes and making his way back to the party in search of copious amounts of alcohol. Maybe, just maybe, if he drank enough, he could forget.

Typically, as soon as he got back, Quistis used his entrance as an excuse to break away from Zel. “Have you seen Squall?” she asked. “He knows he’s supposed to hang around at these things, but I’ll bet he’s gone off to brood. Laguna seems to be missing, too. Any ideas?”

“Not one,” Irvine answered, walking off toward the alcoholic punch. He needed oblivion immediately.

After drinking the majority of what was left in the bowl, Irvine stumbled away from the party once more, ignoring various calls, and half aware that his sculling had caused quite a scene. He stumbled right past Elyssa, who was still trying to fix her hair, and headed toward the library—the one place he knew would be deserted.

He pulled up a chair in the very back corner and smacked his head down on the desk, noticing with an odd detachment that it didn’t really hurt.

“Squall, you idiot! What are you thinking?” he moaned, punctuating each sentence by smashing his head against the desk.

Then, the pain actually began to sink in and he groaned loudly, rubbing his forehead.

What the hell was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could tell anyone, but he couldn’t just ignore it, could he? It was so wrong. Squall and Laguna… They were related. They shared the same blood. They even looked alike! Of course, Irvine had wanted to do them both at one stage or another, but the thought of them together…

Well, actually it was pretty hot, but that wasn’t the point! Besides, Squall couldn’t possibly be that stupid, could he? Right in the open like that…

Of course! Of course he wasn’t that stupid...and that meant that Irvine had just mis-interpreted! He'd seen things the wrong way! Yes, and Squall’s hand on Laguna’s ass was totally a fluke. Naturally, Laguna’s tongue down Squall’s throat was completely innocent.

Yeah. Fucking. Right.

They were probably back in Squall’s room at that very moment, screwing each other's brains out like a good little family.

Ouch. That was harsh.

Yes, Irvine was jealous. Extremely so. Squall wasn’t supposed to care about other people. He wasn’t supposed to kiss, and he wasn’t supposed to belong to someone else. Once Rinoa had been taken out of the picture, there was not supposed to be anyone else Squall could possibly relate to... Except for Irvine.

“Fuck!” Irvine growled. He was going through the angry stage, but that passed rather quickly into depression, and from depression to a sudden revelation.

Squall had actually allowed someone—anyone—to kiss him. It didn’t have to be Laguna to make that a shock, but that factor did contribute. What it meant, though, was that...if Squall had been in someone’s arms...then he wanted to be there. He had chosen that person, against all odds. He had to be happy with that person.

Having realized this, Irvine couldn’t stay angry, or disgusted. After all, didn’t he want Squall to be happy? If Laguna could make that happen, then was it really so bad?

Honestly? Irvine had no idea what the answer to that question was, but he did know one thing. If Squall wasn’t more careful, someone else who wasn’t so understanding would find out, and then they’d really be in trouble.

Irvine had to say something. He couldn’t just pretend he hadn’t seen anything, because if he did, and someone did spread the word, he could never forgive himself.

“Squall, you former bastard… I hate you sometimes,” Irvine whispered.

Rather unsteadily, he got to his feet, instantly clenching a fist to his forehead. Okay, now his head really, really hurt. He needed to get some sleep—preferably for the next few days, right through his expected hangover.

*

Squall lay in Laguna’s arms, just happy to be there. It was the only place where he was truly at peace.

Earlier, they had read over Raine’s diary together, Laguna laughing at old, quirky habits, and Squall learning about the mother he’d never known. Naturally, it was a little strange to hear about his mother while he rested against his father’s chest, completely naked and rather sated from the brilliant sex they’d had just a little while ago...but to Squall was able to push the guilt to the very back of his mind and simply be content together with the man he was in love with. In fact, he was so content that he didn’t even notice the ringing phone.

Groaning, Laguna reached over and picked it up, putting it to Squall’s ear.

“Hello?” he muttered sleepily, then sat upright. “Oh, Ward! What?! Oh, yeah, uh... He’s here.”

Squall handed the phone to Laguna, not quite recovered from the shock he’d just received. How the hell had Ward known where Laguna was? Had Squall sounded terribly guilty when he’d answered? Had he sounded sleepy and sated? Anxiously, he waited for Laguna to finish the conversation and then hang up.

“What did he say?” Squall hissed, outwardly distressed.

“It’s okay. No need to stress. He said he called my room, but when I didn’t answer, he figured I might be here with you… Bonding,” Laguna explained. "He's a sappy one, Ward. Thinks it's just swell that we found our way back to one another and deserve all the time in the world to make up for lost years."

Relieved, Squall sighed and lay back down against Laguna’s chest. “What did he want?” he asked, already tired again.

“Kiros called. We have to go back tomorrow. There’s a slight refugee problem from some areas that were overrun by monsters and can no longer be inhabited.” Laguna looked down at him. “I’m sorry, Squall. I really wanted to spend more time together, but I can’t ignore my duties.”

“I understand,” Squall answered. “It’s the same with Garden.”

A rather cheeky expression crossed Laguna’s face. “You really do take after me. I’m so proud!”

Squall glared up and lazily tried to smack him. “Don’t say things like that,” he mumbled.

“What, you don’t want me to be proud of you?” Laguna asked innocently.

“That’s not what I meant,” Squall muttered, already curling up and closing his eyes. “Don’t remind me,” he whispered. He pointedly snuggled a little and made it clear that he intended to sleep, relieved when Laguna let the subject drop. Shortly, he drifted off to sleep.

*

Taking a deep breath, Irvine knocked twice and slipped into the room without waiting for an answer. Squall was frowning up at him.

“I said I didn’t want-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. No visitors.” Irvine strolled across the room and flopped himself down on the edge of the commander’s desk.

“Irvine… How did you get in here?” Squall asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you mean that pretty little security guard?” Leaving it at that, Irvine flashed a grin.

Squall sighed, pointedly putting pen to paperwork. “You realize I could fire you for saying things like that...?”

“Why would you do that?” Irvine asked. “I’m the best sniper you’ve got. Besides, it’s your fault for posting a female. Makes it so easy to get by—not that I’d have any trouble with a male, you understand, it’s just that—”

“Irvine…is there a point to your intrusion?” Squall asked, cutting him off.

“Actually, yeah, there is.” Suddenly, Irvine’s voice became deadly serious and he waited for Squall to look up at him before continuing. “Squall, what I wanted to say is that...” He paused, mid sentence, and took a breath. “Look, I’m your friend, so I’m gonna be totally honest. I saw you and Laguna last night. You need to be more careful.”

Squall’s pen stopped moving. Slowly, he placed it down on the desk. “Are you going to tell anyone?” he asked, with a quaver of fear in his voice.

Irvine couldn’t help feeling a little hurt at that. “Do you really think I would?” he asked, not bothering to try and hide his feelings.

Looking up into his eyes, Squall sighed and shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Good...” Irvine shrugged. “I just wanted to warn you to be more careful. What I saw, out in the open like that... If I had been anyone else, Squall... What's the point in my spelling it out? You already know, don't you? Just... Be careful. I’ll leave you to your paperwork, then.” Swinging down off the desk, Irvine was startled and thrown off balance by the hand that shot out to grasp his wrist. “What?” he asked, looking back at Squall.

“Wait,” Squall pleaded. “Please stay.”

Irvine had never seen such a vulnerable look in Squall’s eyes. The Garden Commander had never seemed so young, and suddenly it hit Irvine just how young he truly was.

“You, uh, wanna talk?” he asked, and the hope in Squall’s eyes was enough of an answer.

*

Alone in his office, Squall breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his assurances to Laguna, he’d been a little worried, and the moment Irvine had made his confession, he was sure his heart had stopped beating...but, in the end, it turned out okay. Better than okay.

Squall had told Irvine everything, and he was damn glad he had. For the first time in his life, he’d truly needed someone to talk to, and now Irvine was there. It was a profound relief just to know that one trustworthy person was aware of his secret. He knew Irvine would never betray him, and now, he knew that if he ever needed someone to talk to, Irvine was there.

“Thank you,” he whispered in the direction in which Irvine had left.

Deciding that he felt much too good to spend the rest of the day cooped up in his office, Squall left all of his paperwork where it was and went down to find his friends and just hang out. It was a nice day, and he wanted to enjoy it while he still felt so relaxed and carefree. He really felt like he owed Irvine a lot.


	5. Part Four

Laguna was always happy to see Squall, but he wasn’t too thrilled to have been woken for the second time that morning, scolded for answering the phone in the commander's dorm room even though Squall had been counting on it, and then practically ordered by a grouchy commander to be up in his office in five minutes. Very tactfully, Laguna resisted the urge to drop several reminders as to just who outranked who—and not just politically. However, his bitter mood was overcome by wariness as soon as he walked into the tense atmosphere of Squall’s office.

The commander’s eyes were trained on a short, balding man who stood in the middle of the room. As that very man turned at his entrance, Laguna didn’t miss the slight twitch of Squall’s jaw. Tense, indeed.

“Ah, President Loire. So glad you could make it. Please, do take a seat,” said the little man, gesturing to a chair right beside Squall.

Laguna’s first impression was "Weasel," and he glanced at Squall for some guidance, but the commander continued to glare fixedly at the stranger, so Laguna figured he had better play along. He shuffled around the desk to take his seat, all the while keeping an eye on the strange fellow.

As he settled into his chair, the man peered at them both as though seeing them for the first time.

“Hmmm, yes… I can see the family resemblance. It’s very clear. Especially around the—”

“Get to the point,” Squall ground out, rather tersely.

“Ah, yes. Yes, of course. As you’ve already seen the contents of that folder, why not pass it to the president, then?” The weasel nodded at Laguna with a grin that was too wide and too damned suspicious.

Laguna met Squall’s eyes and suddenly felt a sense of dread. He took the folder and then looked down at it. It was a plain manila folder with nothing on the front, and he was just about to open it when a hand shot out in front of his face.

“How rude of me, Mr. Loire. I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me Arthur Shimbley.”

Laguna glared, noting with a certain detachment that he was probably wearing the exact same expression as Squall had been when he’d entered. He brushed away the extended hand and returned his attention to the folder. He didn’t really want to open it, but there was a certain sense of morbid curiosity that guided his hand in flipping the cover.

Oh, how he wished he hadn’t.

God, how vividly he remembered the scene that stared flatly up at him. Squall’s last visit to Esthar had been their first private meeting in two months. They’d sat out on a balcony together and shared a glass of wine under the starlight. Since they’d never had a drink together before, Squall’s swift intoxication had caught Laguna by surprise.

The young man had climbed on top of him—right there in the open—and kissed him very passionately until Laguna had regained some of his better sense and insisted that they move inside…and there it was, mocking him; Squall’s arms around his neck, one knee pressed against his crotch, and his own hand firmly grasping his son’s ass...

Well, shit.

The twitch of sympathy offered by Laguna’s cock did not help matters.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly, without looking up. He couldn’t look up; couldn’t look away from the plain evidence of his incestuous relationship with his own son.

A million thoughts raced through his head. Why couldn’t he just say no? Why couldn’t he be a good father instead of a depraved pervert? Why did Squall have to be so damn sexy and love him so damn much... And why did Laguna have to love him back? The one thing he knew was that he feared only for Squall and didn’t give a damn about his own position.

“From you? 9, 000, 000 gil.” Arthur Shimbley paused a moment, seeming to reconsider. “Why not make that a round 10, eh?”

Laguna didn’t answer. Instead, he studied the photo. It was so unfair to see them both so happy at a time that could cost them everything, one way or another.

“Done,” Laguna whispered, sliding the evidence back toward his blackmailer.

“That’s insane!” Squall shouted, slamming his hands down on the desk.

Shimbley grinned all the wider. “My price from you is 50% of all your annual spoils in salvaged items, rare and otherwise.”

Squall snarled. “Fuck you.”

Shimbley tipped the crown of his head in the semblance of a bow. “You can keep that copy for the family album. I have several more. I leave tomorrow and will expect to find my bank account at least 2, 000, 000 gil richer, with a hefty shipment of items on the way.”

With that, the bastard left.

*

Squall was enraged. No, he was beyond that. He was… He was fucking furious!

“Damn it!” he yelled, spinning away from the desk and knocking his chair over in the process.

He headed for the nearest solid object, which happened to be the wall, and kicked it hard. Consequently, the pain rebounded all the way up to his knee, and tears sprang to his eyes.

“Fuck,” he hissed, leaning his forehead against the cool wall.

Laguna tried to comfort him, to hold him from behind, but all it did was make complicated matters worse.

“Get away from me!” Squall snapped, throwing him off. “How…? How could you agree to that?! What the fuck was I thinking, ever loving you in the first place?”

Even as the words left his mouth, Squall was riddled by a sense of guilt, but before he could apologize, the door creaked open. It was a testament to the brilliant sound-proofing that anyone would be game enough to enter the room after Squall’s yelling, but someone did, not bothering to knock.

Irvine strolled in, noted the tension between Squall and Laguna, and promptly froze. He raised his eyebrows, obviously assessing their expressions, and then tipped his hat. “Bad time. I’ll come back later.”

However, he happened to turn toward the desk, and in that moment, the still exposed photograph caught his eye.

Squall felt a heavy blush creep over his cheeks and wanted nothing more than to sink right through the floor. When he risked meeting Irvine’s eyes, he saw serious concern darkening the Galbadian’s face.

“You’re being blackmailed,” Irvine stated, putting two and two together rather easily.

Instantly, Laguna bristled, and Squall sighed, shutting him up with a brief glance. “It’s fine. Irvine knows,” he explained, before his lover could ramble off some kind of garbled excuse.

“He does?” Laguna asked, dumbfounded, and Squall couldn’t resist a modicum of amusement at the cute expression of shock he had never seen before.

Irvine, however, had made his way over to the desk. “Squall, what’s going on?” he asked, picking up the photo. As he studied it, an amused grin slid over his features, in spite of the circumstances.

“Give me that!” Squall strode forward and snatched the picture out of his hand, immediately immolating it with an overkill of Firaga. “It’s none of your concern,” he warned as the ashes fell to the floor.

“Bullshit! Is it that smug bastard I ran into in the elevator?” Irvine questioned, grabbing Squall’s shoulders and forcing the commander to meet his gaze. “If you don’t trust me, then suit yourself, but I thought we were friends. Tell me what’s going on.”

Giving in, Squall explained. He couldn’t look Irvine in the eyes, but as he recounted the meeting, anger settled in again. He never noticed that anger transferring into Irvine, and when his friend nodded and left, he was too damn pissed off to notice the steely glint in those bright blue eyes. Squall was all too happy to be pulled into Laguna’s arms and grow calm again as he nestled into his lover’s chest. He was sick to death of tiptoeing around, and so tired of the secrecy that surrounded the most wonderful part of his life.

*

Irvine had returned to his room, waiting out the day. Finally, when it grew dark outside, he tracked Shimbley down, events finding him in the Secret Area of the Training Grounds, conveniently enough. He approached the man from behind, his only greeting the sound of the gun being cocked as he held the barrel of his rifle to Shimbley’s head. Slowly, warily, the man turned.

“You fucking bastard,” Irvine muttered. “You think you can get away with this?”

“Put down the gun, young man,” Shimbley replied calmly, even as the cigarette fell from his trembling lips.

“Afraid?” Irvine asked. “Quite right to be, really. I don’t take lightly to people who blackmail my friends.”

That comment instigated a very disturbing grin. “Defending the dirty little slut, are you? How admirable.”

Irvine growled, resisting the temptation just to blow the bastard's head off. “How dare you?”

“You’re really such a loyal little dog to protect him. I wonder, has he told you the whole truth of it? That he’s fucking his own father? Ah, the president of Esthar and his lover, the commander of Garden… Flesh and blood.” Apparently Shimbley took Irvine’s trembling wrist the wrong way. “Oh, I’m afraid it’s true. Your commander is nothing but a horny child, really. What do you think about that?”

Wow. It really hadn’t taken long. The gun was supposedly just for intimidation, but the fucking weasel had pushed him too far. On went the silencer, up went the rifle; all in a heartbeat.

“Not too clever, are you?” Irvine snarled.

Shimbley’s eyes drifted to the gun barrel between them, then back to Irvine's face.

“You won’t…” he said. When a long moment passed and Irvine didn’t shoot, the man straightened a little. “I didn’t think so.”

Click went the trigger. Splatter went Shimbley’s brains.

*

The door opened slowly, and Quistis yawned, rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

“What—?”

Before she could even finish speaking, Irvine practically fell on her. He held her for a moment, and then slid to the floor.

“Irvine?” she asked, as she sank into a crouch, reaching out to him. Her voice was shaky and full of fear. “Irvine, what happened? Blood…? Are you hurt? Oh, no.”

“Quistie,” he whispered pitifully. “Quistie, what should I do?”

“What happened?” she asked timidly.

“I killed him, Quistie. I didn’t mean to, but I killed him. He found out, and he was going to tell. I only meant to talk to him. I just wanted to change his mind. Instead... I blew it to hell. He deserved it, the bastard. What he said… The things he said about Squall… What should I do? I killed him.”

Irvine knelt on the floor, staring sightlessly at the carpet. He felt sick and he was trembling.

“What?” Quistis asked in quiet shock, her voice no more than a whisper.

“I put on my silencer, I held the gun to his head, and I pulled the trigger.” His eyes squeezed closed in pain and denial. Tears choked him, welling up in his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over. He wiped at them frantically before finally giving in, pulling his hand away bloody and staring at it in horror through the haze. For the first time, he looked up and really saw what was in front of him. “Quistis...” he whispered.

She lunged at him, holding him so tightly that he could barely breathe. “Irvine…”

“Help me, Quistie. I don’t know what to do.” He sounded weak and pathetic, not at all himself.

“I’ll help you, Irvine, but first I need you to tell me everything. What did he find out about? What was he going to tell?”

“I-I can’t…” Irvine breathed. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”

“You have to. If I’m going to help you cover this up, I need to know everything,” Quistis insisted.

Irvine bit his lip, pulling out of the embrace awkwardly. “Of course you do. The photos... He must have copies hidden...” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t my secret.”

“You have to tell me, Irvine,” Quistis urged, her voice low, and deadly serious.

Irvine looked away, staring at the ground. “It’s Squall,” he began, speaking slowly as if the hesitation could vilify the betrayal of speaking this secret aloud. “Squall and Laguna… They’re... They’re…”

Quistis frowned when he wouldn’t finish the sentence. “Father and son? Everyone knows that.”

“F..." He could just repeat her words back to her, and pretend that was it. Except that he couldn't. He needed her help. Squall needed her help. "Fucking,” Irvine corrected, wincing at the crude word and the image it painted. “They’re...together.”

Quistis gaped in shock. “What?”

Irvine sighed. His shoulders slumped and his hair fell over his face. “It isn’t what you might think,” he admitted. “You should see him, Quistis. I’ve never seen him smile the way he does with Laguna. That time he went to Esthar, when he came back in a better mood than any of us had ever seen him in…? That’s when it started. He told me all about it. How they has been lovers before we fought Ultemicia..." Quistis whimpered, the implications quickly processed in her magnificent brain. "How he went to Esthar with the intention of putting an end to the suffering that none of us had noticed... One thing led to another, and somehow they ended up together after all.” Irvine crumpled to one side, too despaired to right himself. When he continued speaking, it was in a voice so soft that Quistis missed half of what he said. “I wish I could say that I didn’t approve. I wish I could say that I was disgusted or angry. Even though I can’t understand how a son could love his father that way, I do understand how a man can love a man, and I do understand how a man can love Squall.”

“Oh, honey,” Quistis whispered, a sucker for romantic tragedy. “What did you do, Irvine? Did you leave the body?” He nodded. “Tell me where.”

As he told her, she coaxed him to his feet, brushing his bloodstained hair out of his face, and wiping her own hands on her dress.

“Go take a shower,” she said. “You need to wash your hair out before it dries.”

“What about you?” Irvine asked, taking in the mess he’d made of her, as well as the carpet.

“Never mind that.” She waved him off. “You take a shower and then go curl up in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

He began to protest, but stopped. He knew her too well. If her mind was set on something, then there was no use in arguing. Nodding, he went into the bathroom and stripped down, leaving his clothes in a stained pile on the floor before stepping into the shower and scrubbing down his skin to rid himself of the blood that was already drying. Washing his hair was more of an obstacle. He was sure it would never feel clean again, but as he rinsed it with shampoo and conditioner, he watched the blood and soap trickle down the drain from red, to pink, to clear water.

When he was as clean as he could get, he turned off the water, but didn’t get out immediately. Instead, he rested his head against the shower wall, reminding himself that it was an accident; that he’d done it for Squall; that in the end it was probably for the best. He turned the events around in his mind, random images flashing past, separated by memories of Squall’s happy smile.

Failing to convince himself, he stepped out of the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around his hips. He avoided looking in the mirror and walked out of the bathroom. Laid out on the bed was an extremely large men’s shirt, apparently Quistis’ choice of nightwear. He pulled it over his head and then collapsed on top of the covers, the towel still draped across his hips as he cried himself to sleep.

Meanwhile, dressed from head to toe in black, a woman hauled away the body of a dead man, casting spell after spell to wash away the evidence of murder.

*

Irvine woke early after a fretful night’s sleep. He found his clothes lying on the bed beside him, freshly cleaned, but Quistis was nowhere to be found.

For a long time, he just sat there, staring at the miraculously clean carpet. How had he allowed himself to lose control like that? Surely the guy had taken precautions, maybe even left copies with someone. Irvine hadn’t really taken the time to ask. The problem was that when matters concerned Squall, his emotions tended to take over in place of his head.

When he finally made his way out, Irvine found a box of cereal and a bowl on the table, along with a little note. "Help yourself. Milk’s in the fridge." Bypassing it, he walked out the door. He didn’t think he could eat without throwing up, so instead, he went to confront Squall.

The commander and the president needed to know that the situation had been cleaned up, in a manner of speaking. At least, that’s what Irvine told himself.

In truth, he needed to tell Squall what he had done and hear that it was okay, even if it wasn’t. He was afraid he’d made a bad choice, but more importantly, he was sick to the stomach. There was a reason he was a sniper. Long range jobs didn’t involve getting covered in blood or seeing the fear in a victim's eyes as they died.

Pausing outside the door, Irvine took a deep breath. It was too late to back down now. It had been too late ever since he pulled the trigger. Breathing out slowly, he knocked.

“Who is it?” Squall called.

“It’s Irvine,” the sniper replied a little uncertainly.

“Irvine? Could you come back later? I’m-”

“Please, Squall, open the door,” Irvine begged.

Obviously he sounded needy enough because a moment later there was a creak, soon followed by a click, and the door swung open.

“What’s wrong?” Squall asked immediately as he frowned, taking in Irvine’s appearance. “You don’t look too good.”

Irvine looked down into Squall’s eyes and felt his breath catch in his throat as tears threatened again. His voice failed him, and he just stood there awkwardly in the doorway, unable to explain.

“Come in.” Squall ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. “Laguna, could you get some brandy? I keep it in the cabinet beside the sink.”

Laguna raised his eyebrows at that, but glancing at Irvine, he did as he was asked. Meanwhile, Irvine stumbled over to the couch where he was told to sit. Squall perched beside him, waiting patiently but uncomfortably.

At last, Irvine found his tongue. “You don’t have to worry about Shimbley,” he said, his voice cracking.

“What do you mean?” Squall asked, leaning forward to see into Irvine’s downcast eyes, forcing the sniper to look at him.

“He’s dead,” Irvine clarified. “I killed him.”

“What?” Squall muttered, and Irvine could practically hear his spine turn to ice.

Surprisingly numb, Irvine managed to relate the story without bursting into tears. He felt cold and detached as he detailed the conversation and then his rash decision to shoot the man. It wasn’t until he got to the part with the blood splattering that he finally broke down, falling into Squall’s arms and sobbing.

Squall held him, stroking his hair. The commander reached behind him for something and then urged Irvine to sit up, pressing a glass into his hands. Irvine looked down at it, then lifted the brandy to his lips, taking a long, deep swallow. He felt it seep down his throat, warming his insides and numbing his brain. He closed his eyes and settled back against the couch, taking a deep breath and then another sip, only a little one this time.

“Thank you,” he whispered after a moment, opening his eyes to look over at Squall.

“Irvine.” Laguna’s voice made him look around to his other side where the president sat, regarding him sadly. “I’m sorry you got involved in this.”

“I’m not the only one,” Irvine confessed suddenly, spurred to confidence by the brandy. “After… After it happened, I ran to Quistis. She took care of me and then left. She wasn’t there when I woke up, but I don’t think she stayed for long if she returned. I had to tell her. About you two. I’m sorry. I couldn’t think clearly and she said I had to tell her if she was going to help me.”

“It’s okay,” Squall comforted. “I’ll go talk to her. You stay here.” Squall got up and looked behind Irvine to Laguna. “Look after him,” he said before grabbing his uniform jacket and leaving.

*

“Quistis?” Squall had been searching for her and finally found her in the library, slumped over some books. He shook her shoulder gently until she stirred.

“Squall?” He could practically see her remembering the events that had led her to fall asleep at such an odd daylight hour. Apparently, his face was just as readable. “There’s nothing to find but ash. Nobody will ever know.”

“Thank you, Quistis,” Squall whispered, bending down to pull her into his arms.

“Is Irvine okay?” Quistis asked when he let her go.

“He’s with Laguna and a bottle of brandy,” Squall answered, sliding into the nearest seat and resting his head in his hand. “He’s really torn up about this.”

Quistis looked down at the books—not so subtly averting her gaze. “You know he did it for you.”

Squall nodded, not sure what he could say to that. After a weighty silence, he sighed heavily and got his feet. “Quistis, please don’t tell the others,” he said before leaving. “It would be better if they didn’t know. There’s no reason for anyone else to be involved.”

Smiling a little sadly, Quistis got to her feet as well. “I won’t tell, but you should know by now, Squall... Where you’re concerned, people can’t help but get involved, for better or worse.”

*

Squall closed the door quietly behind him. Laguna glanced up as he let himself in, but with his face buried in the president’s shirt, Irvine didn’t notice a thing. Raising an eyebrow at his lover, Squall noted the empty bottle on the floor.

He walked over and slipped onto the couch behind Irvine. Only then did the sniper notice his presence, and Squall slid his arms around Irvine’s shoulders, hugging him from behind.

Looking up at Laguna, Squall tightened his grip, resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder. “Quistis has taken care of everything,” he told them quietly. Irvine’s body suddenly stiffened, and Squall winced. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

Wordlessly, Irvine shook his head.

Eyes shifting from Squall to Irvine, Laguna lifted the sniper’s chin. “You did the right thing,” he said.

“I just wanted to protect you,” Irvine whispered.

“And you did,” Squall reassured him, looking worriedly at Laguna. He wasn’t sure he liked seeing Irvine so fragile. It wasn’t like him at all. Laguna nodded subtly to his unvoiced question. “Thank you,” Squall whispered into Irvine’s ear, and then brushed his lips across the sniper’s cheek.

*

A moment of silent communication had passed between Laguna and Squall, so when his lover placed a soft kiss on Irvine’s cheek, Laguna wasn’t surprised at all. Irvine, in his drunken and distraught state, took a few moments to register the kiss, but when he did, his eyes widened slightly and he looked up at Laguna.

Before Irvine could even think about it, Laguna smiled, leaning in close and pressing their lips together. Irvine’s gasp was the perfect opening to slip his tongue between the man’s lips and delve deeper into his mouth.

Meanwhile, one of Squall’s arms wound around the sniper’s waist, while the other traveled down his arm and over his hand, entwining their fingers. The commander nuzzled Irvine’s neck, flicking his tongue over the pale skin and then kissing it, his teeth gently scraping the surface.

It didn’t take long for Irvine to relax into the kisses and caresses. Drunk as he was, he was a little clumsy, but that didn’t matter. The point was to calm his worries and prevent him from going insane with guilt. So Laguna concentrated on that, skillfully causing the sniper to forget his troubles for a while.

*

Hands… Warmth… Tongues… Tastes… So nice… So good…

Irvine didn’t find it hard to accept the attentions of the two most gorgeous and influential men in the world. In fact, it was quite easy, really. Laguna’s hair was soft in his hands, and Squall’s chest pressed against his back was warm and reassuring. Of course, the various hands, tongues, lips, and teeth roaming over his skin and promptly undressing him were welcome in other ways.

Before he knew it, he was naked between the man he wanted most and that man’s lover… Father… Whatever. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the floating sensation that came from the alcohol and the sweet taste of Laguna’s mouth. He was extremely happy just to ignore everything but what they were doing to him.

And so he did, and when Laguna’s mouth wrapped around his erection, he groaned, slipping down into Squall’s lap. The commander’s hands traveled over his chest whilst the president’s tongue licked his cock. He reached up and took Squall’s face in his hands, pulling the man down for an awkward but nonetheless wonderful kiss.

*

Squall wasn’t convinced it was the right thing to do, but he didn’t quite care. Irvine was one of his few friends, and he wasn’t about to stand by while the sniper slowly went mad. If taking his mind off the situation was only temporary as a solution, then it was good enough as a preliminary measure.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Squall’s morals had been hanging around lately. They could worry about the consequences later. As long as Laguna didn’t mind, then there was nothing to hold back.

Irvine’s sudden move in pulling Squall down for a kiss was a good sign. It meant that he wasn’t just accepting their advances because of the alcohol, unable to argue or act.

Of course, Squall didn’t expect to be pushed away. What Irvine had done was no small show of loyalty, and Squall knew that it wasn’t just because of his rank. The Galbadian sniper was not one to submit easily to authority, but to Squall himself…?

It was obvious in Irvine’s eyes as Squall pulled away, staring down into an upside down face—into beautiful blue eyes.

“Squall,” Irvine breathed, and it seemed for a moment as though he was completely sober. Then, the spell was broken and Irvine’s eyes squeezed closed as he cried out, arching off the couch.

Laguna sat up, grinning and licking his lips, even as Irvine flopped back down, taking a moment to recover. In that time, Squall noticed his hands stroking Irvine’s hair as he studied Laguna’s face. The president smirked and nodded, moving back to sit on the arm of the couch and leaving the rest free.

A return smile spread across Squall’s lips and he shifted out from under Irvine. The sniper looked up at him, his eyes slightly unfocused. He watched as Squall pulled off his shirt and removed his belts before sitting back down on the other side of the couch, just in front of Laguna.

Irvine slowly sat up, his eyes flicking to the president, who simply shrugged, and then they locked onto Squall’s.

“I want to thank you, Irvine,” Squall said quietly, caressing his friend’s cheek. “Is that okay?”

Nodding silently, Irvine searched his friend's eyes, waiting for Squall to make a move; so Squall did, pushing the sniper back down onto the couch and then kissing him hard, delving his tongue deep into Irvine’s mouth and stealing away his breath.

Meanwhile, his hand slid down Irvine’s chest, over his nipples, teasing and tweaking. He reached lower, tracing the contour of Irvine’s slowly reawakening member, down past his balls, and between his legs. He fingered Irvine’s entrance, circling it, rubbing it, and then pushed his finger inside to the first knuckle.

By Irvine’s reaction, he wasn’t new to the sensation, so Squall pressed deeper, adding a second finger. Soon, he added a third and was reassured that Irvine would be fine as the sniper moaned and pressed down on them.

Satisfied, Squall withdrew his hand and sat up, kneeling between Irvine’s legs. He spread them a little wider and then moved in, lifting those well muscled thighs to sit on his hips as he positioned himself.

Before he could close the deal, Irvine took his hand. “Squall, I want you to know…” He began boldly, but trailed off. Briefly, his eyes slid past Squall’s shoulder, landing on Laguna. He licked his lips nervously, and then continued on in spite of the awkwardness of speaking up in front of Squall's complicated lover. “I love you,” he breathed, as if begging for that to be okay.

“I know. I'm very lucky,” Squall whispered, and then claimed those lovely lips once more as he also claimed Irvine’s body.

*

Irvine took a deep breath the moment Squall’s lips left his. The commander paused, waiting for him as he slowly hissed it back out again.

“You okay?” Squall asked, concerned.

Forcing open the eyes he didn’t remember closing, Irvine nodded. “Just…breathless,” he said, truthfully. There was a little pain, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It was just overwhelming that Squall was really inside of him just like he dreamed at night. No turning back... Slowly, he reached up, cupping Squall’s cheek, then dropped his hand to Squall’s thigh and nodded, relaxing into the couch. Squall took the hint, adjusting to lean further over him, pressing just a little deeper before drawing back his hips.

Irvine moaned at the first long, slow stroke inside his body. His mouth fell open, just a little at first, but wider with every heightened thrust. His nails dug into Squall’s thigh, and his other hand gripped the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles hurt, but he hardly felt it, not with the nirvana raging below his waist.

The pace built, Squall panting over him, head bent, eyes closed...but then it slowed, and Sqall came to a stop. At first, Irvine didn’t understand, but then he recognized the restraint on Squall’s face and his awareness of the world widened to the man behind Squall, now kneeling and just as naked.

Laguna smirked at him, slowly laying a kiss between Squall’s shoulder and neck. Irvine groaned, then held his breath as Laguna held Squall’s shoulders and shifted. Squall hissed, though obviously in pleasure as it melted into a moan and his head sank back onto Laguna’s shoulder.

Irvine watched, feeling the subtle shift as Laguna took Squall, pressing him further into Irvine, in turn. The sniper closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept up in the act as Laguna began to control the motion, his hips virtually playing god.

*

Squall dissolved rather quickly, sweating and moaning; his arms trembling as he bent over Irvine. He’d never felt anything like it before—the friction and pressure of Irvine wringing his cock whilst Laguna slammed expertly against his sweet spot with every movement.

He buried his face in Irvine’s mess of hair, bracing his upper body to be as still as possible while the rest of him thrust forward hard and swung back before being pushed further again. His breathing was completely ragged and he was seeing spots. Meanwhile, he could feel Irvine’s breath on his shoulder and hear the muffled cries so close to his ear. Laguna’s hands gripped his hips, tightly enough to leave deep bruises, but he didn’t care.

He came without warning, the pleasure sweeping through him by surprise. The moment he did, Irvine clenched around him, but Laguna didn’t stop, still thrusting into him and thrusting him into Irvine. Dimly, Squall reached a trembling hand between his and Irvine’s bodies, wrapping his fingers around the sniper’s cock and giving one tug, two, and then Irvine peaked as well, arching up beneath him.

Spent, Squall collapsed, and Laguna slowly came to a halt and withdrew, his hands leaving Squall’s hips reluctantly.

Squall wanted to just drift off to sleep there and then, but instead, he pushed himself up and turned to the man he loved, looking up into Laguna’s eyes as he reached for the swollen, throbbing cock that practically begged for release.

*

Irvine registered Squall’s comfortable weight leaving him and opened bleary eyes to see the commander stroking Laguna off. Without any opinion but a vague stirring somewhere near his groin, Irvine watched as Squall bent over, just for a moment or two, until Laguna moaned and shuddered, one hand burrowing deep into Squall’s shaggy, sweaty hair.

Then, Irvine closed his eyes. Just as his thoughts began to wander, drift, and warp, something nice and warm...and a little wet cuddled up against him. He sighed and floated off into contentment.

*

Laguna had shared one last kiss with Squall before his son curled up on the couch with his best friend, spent and sated. He watched the two for a while, wondering if maybe he should relinquish his lover to the devoted redhead. Of course, the notion didn’t last long. He was selfish, and as along as Squall loved him he would never give that up, but maybe...just once in a while...it couldn’t hurt to share.


	6. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated with myself quite a lot about toning down some of the content of this chapter, but when it comes down to it, Squall and Laguna have long-since made a choice, and this is something they need to come to terms with.
> 
> If you are on the fence about how comfortable you are reading this fic, this may not be the chapter for you, but Laguna and Irvine do have some fun you can enjoy in the first half. ;)

“So what are you and Laguna doing for Father’s Day?”

Squall didn’t even bother looking up.

“Nothing,” he replied to the intentionally unobtrusive comment.

“Not gonna get him a present?” Irvine asked.

“No,” Squall replied, pushing away the paper he’d just signed and reaching for another. “Why would I?”

Irvine sighed in frustration. “Because that’s what people do on Father’s Day.”

Squall stopped, put down his pen, and slowly looked up at the sniper. “You know about our relationship—you’re part of it—and yet you still insist on bringing up this topic?”

“Yes,” Irvine answered bluntly. When Squall just returned to his work, Irvine pressed on. “We’re all orphans, Squall. None of us knew our parents. I know Laguna being your father is a little uncomfortable for you, but knowing where you come from, knowing who you come from… That’s something you should celebrate, if only once a year.”

Squall growled. “I don’t want to celebrate it, Irvine. I want to forget. Completely. Now, I have a lot of work to do. Besides, Laguna won’t even be here tomorrow. He’s in Esthar, working just as hard as a president should.”

*

“I told you he wouldn’t go for it,” Irvine muttered. “He thinks you’re in Esthar.”

“Did you tell him I’m here?” Laguna asked quickly.

“No,” Irvine replied, leaning back against the railing.

They were outside in the quad, taking advantage of the lack of activity since most people were out at Balamb Town, shopping for Father’s Day. Squall was shacked up with so much paperwork he wouldn’t be leaving his office for quite some time, so it was the perfect place to talk.

Laguna smiled. “Good. I want to surprise him.”

“He’s really not crazy about this whole Father’s Day thing,” Irvine told him a little hesitantly.

“Of course not. I didn’t expect him to be,” Laguna pointed out.

“Then what makes you think—”

“It’s something we both have to accept, whether we like it or not. Everyone knows I’m Squall’s father, but it’s difficult acknowledging that publicly while knowing that our relationship is very different in private. We need to get used to the fact that we are family in addition to being lovers.” He grinned. “Besides… Call me kinky, but I want to hear him call me Dad, just once—”  
   
“You know he’ll never do that—”  
   
“—in bed,” Laguna finished.

“That’s even more impossible!” Irvine exclaimed.

Laguna leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I bet I can make him.”

Thinking that over for a moment, Irvine imagined Squall crying out in ecstasy, “Dad!” ringing from his lips. “Kinky bastard,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably as his body reacted unexpectedly to the image.

“Mmm, but you’re the one getting turned on it,” Laguna whispered, his breath tickling Irvine’s ear.

Irvine closed his eyes. "As if you're not... Stop that, damn it.”

Laughing, Laguna pulled away. “We can continue this elsewhere,” he suggested.  
Irvine glared at him, leaning a little more heavily against the rail. “Dirty old bastard,” he murmured.

Laguna grinned. “So what if I am?”

Irvine groaned softly. “I have a group of cadets to drill this afternoon,” he said quietly.

“None of whom are anywhere near Balamb Garden at this point in time,” Laguna pointed out. “You have a whole hour and a half before anyone is expected to be back,” he said, extending his hand.

Irvine took it. “When you put it that way…”

He hadn’t spent much time alone with Laguna—or any at all, really. It was because of Squall that he’d been dragged into their crazy relationship, and because of Squall that he’d stayed. His feelings for the commander allowed him to overcome any guilt he had at sleeping with two men who were very much in love with each other and already engaged in a taboo relationship.

It wasn’t such a bad deal. When Laguna was away tending to his presidential duties, Irvine got Squall all to himself. Usually, when Laguna was around, the president spent a lot of time alone with Squall, but occasionally, Irvine joined them. He liked that, he had to admit. The only thing better than sleeping with the man he loved, was sleeping with the man he loved and another man equally as attractive—it ran in the blood. It no longer bothered him that they were related. Why should it? It wasn’t his problem, and he got the most benefit out of that nice family resemblance.

Irvine huffed as he was slammed against the wall the moment the door of Squall's upgraded quarters closed behind them. Laguna’s lips were on his in an instant. He hadn’t expected the man to be so forceful, but then again, he had been away from Squall for almost two months. Being so close now, and unable to approach his beloved until tomorrow, was probably fraying on Laguna’s nerves.

Not probably... Definitely. Laguna’s kiss was harsh and desperate, filled with lust and longing. His knee was between Irvine’s thighs in seconds, rubbing against the sniper’s crotch. To his credit, Irvine hadn’t seen a hint of his need out in public, unless one considered how bold he had been out there in the open. Of course, one was far too distracted to even conceive of such a thought.

When Irvine felt Laguna’s erection pressing against his body, he groaned. The man’s skillful tongue had long since whipped his own into submission. He was just putty for the President to play with. Laguna had him right where he wanted him.

Well, maybe not quite.

“Bed,” Laguna snarled. “Strip as you go.”  
Irvine was quite happy to oblige, even as he watched Laguna do the same. Though he was old enough to be a grown man's father, Laguna’s physique was still very impressive. He was in as good shape now as he ever was; his muscles as strong as they had been in his youth, and his figure still damn sexy. His hair and eyes were definitely the most attractive of his qualities, though. Much like Squall. Even though the slight lines around his face gave him a sense of maturity, it was welcome.

His own clothing discarded, Irvine moved toward the bed, but Laguna was impatient, pulling the sniper into his arms and kissing him passionately once more. He pulled out Irvine’s hair tie and Irvine shuddered as his hair fell loose, cascading around his overly hot, sensitive body. It tickled and caressed him, and he moaned against Laguna’s lips.  
Breaking the kiss, Laguna pulled away just far enough to speak, breathing rather heavily.

“Do you mind?” he asked, pausing to brush his lips over Irvine’s once more. “I know it’s Squall you love.”

Irvine reached for Laguna’s mouth, but the president pulled back. Pouting, the sniper glared into Laguna’s eyes, slowly leaning in the extra distance to taste the man’s lips just briefly yet again. “I don’t mind,” he whispered, his breath teasingly caressing sensitized lips before he pulled back. “I guess I’m just a slut,” he added with a small, shameless grin.

“No,” Laguna breathed, denying the self deprecating remark, “You’re not.” He gently brushed Irvine’s hair back behind his ear. “Something tells me you’re not as free with your favors as your reputation implies.”

“And if I am?” Irvine asked, stepping away from Laguna. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back onto his elbows. “What if I really have slept with as many people as the rumors say?” He slowly wriggled backward, grinning as Laguna’s eyes raked his body.

“What if I justify it to Squall by saying I did it because I couldn’t have the one person I wanted?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Laguna asked, his mouth dry and his voice raspy.

“Now I have him, and I still can’t turn you down,” Irvine replied, spreading his legs.  
Laguna groaned, his eyes glued to the revealed flesh. “This is different,” he argued. “Under the circumstances…”

Irvine shook his head. “No need to make excuses,” he said. “If this makes me a slut, then maybe I like it.”

Laguna—eyes firmly fixed on Irvine’s body—walked around the bed, reaching into the cabinet beside it that contained a tube of lubricant kept for his visits to Squall. Before he could pour any of it over his fingers, Irvine took the bottle and poured some over his hand. He reached out and began stroking Laguna’s erection, covering it in the thick liquid.

As he did so, Laguna shifted onto the bed, sitting up on his knees. He watched Irvine’s eyes, not his hand, reaching out and grabbing the sniper’s wrist to stop him the moment a moan escaped his lips. “What about you?” he asked.

“This is fine,” Irvine answered, pulling Laguna down on top of him.

Unable to resist even a moment more, Laguna obliged, settling between Irvine’s thighs and urging them further apart. His lips thinned into a line as he dragged Irvine forward, the sniper’s legs hooking over his hips. He closed his eyes and shuddered as he penetrated Irvine’s body, slowly pushing his erection deep into the sniper’s core.

Irvine gripped the sheets, moaning loudly. He enjoyed the sensation of being taken. Laguna’s clock sliding into him caused him to shiver and gasp. When he was filled completely, he held his breath for a second. This was his favorite moment, savoring the sensation of being stuffed to the brim. Slowly, he let the breath out and licked his lips, rocking experimentally against Laguna’s hips.

Balls squishing against Irvine’s ass, Laguna groaned, responding instantly to the hint. He drew back and then thrust in hard, beginning a harsh, brutal pace that would see them both to satisfaction sooner rather than later. It was a reckless pace, quite unlike the slowly rising intensity Irvine savored with Squall. Leaning over him, Laguna pounded him with short, quick strokes, aiming teasing nips at his lips every now and then. His cock frequently brushed against Irvine’s sweet spot, causing him to moan continuously, digging his nails into Laguna’s back.

Briefly, he wondered why he hadn’t slept with this man long ago, long before anyone even knew that Laguna was Squall’s father. Either way, he certainly did not regret it now.

Laguna slowed, and soon stopped. He tested Irvine’s flexibility a little more, forcing his thighs in toward his waist during a deep kiss. Little, tiny rocks sparked a fire against the Irvine's prostate while the larger man's body rubbed against his erection.

Gently releasing Irvine’s lips, Laguna allowed him a breather before finishing him off with several long, hard thrusts in that position. Irvine cried out as Laguna came inside of him, triggering his own orgasm. He groaned until the pleasure subsided, folding his arms around Laguna as the man collapsed over him.

“That was hot,” Irvine whispered.

“It certainly was,” Laguna agreed, expending the effort to kiss Irvine softly before sliding out of him and sinking into the mattress. “I’m glad I seduced you,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

“Not that it took much effort,” Irvine muttered, closing his eyes as he felt Laguna’s fingers run though his hair.

“Thank you, Irvine,” Laguna said quietly. Irvine was about to make some comment about how it was hardly an act of charity when Laguna continued. “For taking care of Squall. I’m glad you’re here for him when my work takes me away.”

Irvine opened his eyes, gazing at the sexy president. “I…” He wasn’t entirely sure what to say. After a short deliberation, he grinned and drew his arms up under his head as a pillow. “My pleasure,” he said, at last.

Laguna laughed. “I’ll bet!”

*

“Squall, put down that pen!” Quistis growled. “You can’t work all through Father’s Day. At least call Laguna.”

Squall ignored her.

“Awww, c’mon, Squall… We just want you to enjoy having a parent and stuff,” Selphie whined.

Somehow, Squall ignored her as well.

“Yeah, it’s great!” Zell chipped in.

“Shouldn’t you be off with your family?” Squall asked, finally looking up and glaring at Zell.

Zell grinned. “Yeah. They’re waiting for me, all missing their son on this wonderful holiday...but I’m not leaving until you get your ass out of the office and agree to celebrate with your own dad.”

“Then you’re going to miss your chance, because Laguna isn’t even here, and I am not taking time out of his busy schedule to call him,” Squall replied coolly.

“It’s Father’s Day!” Quistis cried. “He’s probably just sitting there, wasting time and waiting for you to call!”

“I doubt it,” Squall mumbled, his focus back on his paperwork.

“Mmmm, me too,” Irvine agreed. He didn’t elaborate, especially under the glares of everyone else.

The chorus of arguments started up again, until Squall slammed his pen down on the table. “Get out of here! All of you! Now!” he yelled, startling them.

Squall didn’t yell. Ever. Not that any but Irvine had ever heard, at least.

Zell and Selphie backed away. Quistis was a little more stubborn, clenching her fists and glaring back at him. Irvine just winced.

Motioning behind his back, he gave the other two subtle signals to make tracks. Thankfully, Selphie got the message and all but dragged Zell out of the room, stammering an excuse.

“Squall—”

“Why can’t the two of you just leave this alone?” Squall pleaded in exasperation. “Today is the last day I want to talk to him. I wouldn’t know what to say, and even if I did, it wouldn’t feel right. It would probably make him as uncomfortable as I am, and our relationship is difficult enough as it is. Please, just leave me alone.”

Amazingly, Quistis backed down. Irvine gestured with his head, and she let out a sigh. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me,” she said quietly.

Sensing her sudden shift of attitude, Irvine grabbed her wrist. After a brief pause, he kissed her on the cheek. “Your family is right here, Quistie,” he said.

She smiled at him, and then left without another word. Squall had already returned to his work. Well, very well...but come 18:30, Irvine was going to haul his ass out of there, even if it meant rending him unconscious. After all, the President didn’t like to be kept waiting.

*

Squall finally gave up when Irvine set all of his pens on fire, threatening to do the same to his paperwork.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t fire you,” Squall snarled viciously, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Grinning, Irvine leaned over the desk and brushed a kiss upon Squall’s forehead. “Because I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Squall replied rather sullenly, “And whatever it is, I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m sure,” Irvine agreed, briskly striding round the desk and dragging Squall from his chair. “But you’re coming with me anyway, because you can’t possibly do any more work without a pen.” He checked his watch. “Come on, or you’ll never make it in time.”

“In time? In time for what?”

Much to his disgust, Squall was dragged all the way down to his dormitory and then ushered inside. “Olly olly oxenfree!” Irvine called once they were inside.

Squall was about to turn around and demand to know what had gotten into Irvine when the last person he expected—in fact, wanted—to see stepped out of his bedroom. Laguna grinned at him. He was dressed in a handsome black tuxedo with a nice blue tie that brought out his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Squall asked suspiciously. He turned his glare upon Irvine, and suddenly realized that this was the surprise his friend had mentioned. "I hate you," he mouthed.

“Aren’t you pleased to see me?” Laguna asked, throwing his arm about Squall’s shoulders. He knew better than to try for a kiss while Squall’s expression was so decidedly angry.

Squall tried to shake him off, but gave up when Laguna’s fingers tightened on his shoulder in a subtle request not to be turned away.

“And I suppose your sudden appearance has nothing to do with the fact that today is Father’s Day,” Squall accused sarcastically.

“It has everything to do with that!” Laguna candidly confessed. “I’ve always been jealous of people celebrating Father’s Day. Couldn’t resist making myself available for whatever my son has planned for me on such a day.”

Squall flinched. He slipped out from under Laguna’s arm and glanced at Irvine, silently begging the sniper to leave them alone.

“Well, my work here is done. Time to go and comfort my dear orphan-ess, Quistie, I think.” With a tip of his hat, Irvine backed out of the room.

The door clicked shut and Squall turned back to Laguna, panicking inside. “I haven’t planned anything,” he blurted.

“Well, that’s okay, I’m sure we can—”

“I don’t want to!” Squall elaborated. He quickly shut his mouth after the outburst.

He hadn’t thought Laguna would actually expect—let alone want—to celebrate the holiday. He didn’t want to hurt his father’s feelings, but at the same time, he just didn’t feel comfortable with acknowledging that side of their relationship.

Laguna’s expression sobered. “I know it’s a little awkward,” he offered, “But I… It would mean a lot to me if we could have dinner together. Just this once. Besides,” he added, with a sudden grin, “It would look good to the press!”

“Laguna, even if I did want to take you out for Father’s Day, there’s no way we’d get reservations so late,” Squall argued with perfect logic.

Grinning, Laguna spun Squall toward his room, speaking as he went. “That’s okay. I already made reservations,” he said happily, pointing out the suit laid out on Squall’s bed.

“You what!?” Squall cried, breaking away and backing up. “How could you?”

“Easily.” Laguna advanced on his son, causing the commander to back away even further. “I called a hotel, and booked dinner and the presidential suite.”

“No!” Squall yelled, shaking his head. “I’m not going! You can't make me!” He was oblivious to the ironic ring of the words shouted by son to father. Two more steps backward and he fell onto the bed, with Laguna pouncing a moment later.

After much struggling and arguing, Squall was forced into the fine suit: black dress pants and button down shirt with a lovely blue jacket that complemented his eyes and hair. At least, Laguna said so.

“Come on,” he prompted, grabbing Squall’s wallet and pulling him along. “The reservations are for 8pm.”

“Who says I’m paying?” Squall growled indignantly, having given up on trying to get out of it.

“It’s Father’s Day. Of course, it’s your treat.”

*

Later, Squall had to admit that after the initial discomfort, he had enjoyed the meal. It was nice to be able to dine out with Laguna in public, even if they couldn’t touch or kiss like his instincts suggested. The setting was inherently romantic, which only added to Squall’s confusion, but at least he didn’t have to worry about being found out as half the staff and patrons of the restaurant commented to them on how sweet it was to see the two of them sharing their newfound family ties on such an occasion. In the end, Squall almost considered it worth the hassle—even if it felt as though his wallet would never recover its healthy girth.

After dinner, Laguna herded Squall out of the restaurant and toward the elevators. However, when he pressed the button, Squall remembered what he’d said about the presidential suite. The elevator pinged open before he had the chance to argue, and the moment the doors closed, Laguna leaned in to kiss him.

“The cameras!” Squall hissed, pushing him away in a panic.

*

Laguna shrugged, grinning apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t think of that. You just looked so cute, sputtering so indignantly.” Squall jumped as he leaned close, but Laguna veered toward his ear. “The suite is designed without cameras. Political privacy and all that.”

“No!” Squall argued emphatically. “We just celebrated Father’s Day, and now you want to—!?”

Grinning, Laguna stopped Squall mid-sentence by pressing a finger to his lips. “Call me Dad,” he said, in a very seductive tone.

“Laguna!” Squall’s shocked expression couldn’t have been more comical. He caught a hold of himself, though, and spun around, unwilling to show Laguna the blush that he knew had blossomed across his cheeks.

“Aww, come on,” Laguna urged, draping himself over Squall’s shoulders. “You haven’t given me a gift yet…”

Squall didn’t reply, and even though his silence was normal, that felt like a bad sign to Laguna. At least he knew Squall was angry when he reprimanded or snapped. However, not giving up, Laguna began tracing a pattern over Squall’s chest. He was thrown off and Squall scowled as the elevator opened directly into the suite on the top floor.

“Come on!” Laguna dragged him out, ignoring his reluctance. Once the doors closed behind them, the president shepherded Squall through the double oak doors that separated the foyer from the main room, complete with entertainment unit. “You looked so gorgeous tonight,” he whispered, directly into Squall’s ear, even as his fingers drifted across his son’s jacket and he began to strip it off. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“That’s not a good thing,” Squall growled in a strained voice. “What if someone noticed?”

“Then they’d think I’m proud of my son,” Laguna answered, deftly unbuttoning Squall’s shirt and slipping his fingers beneath to pinch a nipple. “And I am.” He bent his head and kissed Squall’s throat, then dropped down further to the rim of the suit collar and dipped his tongue beneath.

“Don’t say things like that,” Squall argued, though he was definitely experiencing some inner conflict as his voice had taken on that wispy, husky tone that always proved his interest was rising.

Slowly circling the pert bud, Laguna rubbed his crotch against Squall’s ass. “You want to forget it, right? That I’m your father?” The commander shifted uncomfortably in a sure sign of guilt. “That’s okay,” Laguna assured him. “But today is special, because no matter how much we ignore or deny it, you’re still my flesh and blood, and there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to forget that.”

“So stop acting this way,” Squall whispered, even as his body argued that he really didn’t mind. His nipples had grown hard under Laguna’s persuasive fingers, and his backside unconsciously leaned into the familiar, sensual caress.

“What’s wrong with it, Squall?” Laguna asked, skillfully releasing each button one by one, down the length of Squall’s shirt. “I love you. You know that. As your father, I just love you even more, so why can’t I prove it?”

At that point, as he fell limp against his father’s chest, Squall gave in, bar one last resistance. “Laguna…” he whispered, in a tone of warning or something equally as futile.

Laguna looked down at the flushed face that peered up at him from his shoulder. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Squall’s, having finally convinced the stubborn man to give in. “Squall,” he breathed as they parted, and then he dipped down again for a second, more forceful kiss.

Squall twisted in his arms, wrapping his own about Laguna’s neck and parting his lips to deepen the kiss. When he gave in, he gave in completely, and there was nothing more beautiful or sexy. All too happy to raise the bar, Laguna forced his tongue deep inside Squall’s mouth to taste the essence that he had become so addicted to.

One hand cupped the back of Squall’s head, while the other continued to undress him little by little. When he couldn’t go without a good, deep breath any longer, Laguna broke the kiss, panting softly, his lips still caressing Squall’s as he breathed. He could never get enough of those kisses, and his lips instinctively reached for more, trying to coax Squall into another, but the commander didn’t respond. Rather, he was frozen, his eyes closed and his arms hanging limply around Laguna’s neck.

“I love you,” Squall whispered suddenly, opening his eyes.

Tears slipped down his cheeks, and Laguna felt his own chest tighten. He was unbelievably blessed to be able to call this man his own, as either son or lover. Gently, he brushed the tears away with his thumb.

“No more of that now,” he whispered. “Not now, not ever.”

Squall seemed to come to his senses and averted his face in embarrassment, but Laguna wouldn’t allow it. He guided Squall’s face back to him and then urged him into another kiss, filling it with the passion and desire he’d longed to release all day. To his utter delight, Squall responded with the same intensity, and allowed himself to be backed toward the bedroom.

By the time they were through the door, Squall’s torso was naked and Laguna had shrugged off his own jacket. His fingers roamed over Squall’s skin, brushing over various battle scars and the subtly defined ridges of muscle that made Squall’s body so damn hot. He was torn. He hated to relinquish Squall’s lips for even a second, but he loved to look at the commander’s body.

Slowly, they shuffled to the bed as Laguna’s fingers wandered and his eyes drank in the sight of that beautiful body. Meanwhile, Squall deliberately slipped every button before removing the dress shirt very slowly, sliding it over Laguna’s shoulders. The rapt expression on his face as he surveyed Laguna’s chest was gratifying. It was nice to know that even if he was...old enough to be Squall’s father, he could still gain a measure of awe from his appearance.

He shivered as Squall bent to tongue a nipple, the commander’s rough thumb caressing the other. Sighing, Laguna let his head roll back. Every time Squall touched him, it felt like they belonged together. He never felt so comfortable as when Squall’s hand was in his, Squall’s tongue on his body, Squall’s hair slipping through his fingers…

“You were made for me,” he whispered, tilting his head to look down into Squall’s eyes.

Smiling ironically, Squall reached down and began to unzip Laguna’s fly. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” he agreed.

For once, there wasn’t a hint of bitterness in his voice, and Laguna seized the moment, knowing there may never be another. He reciprocated Squall’s actions, hurrying them along until both of them were lying naked on the bed. He reached into the drawer where he’d stored a small tube of lubricant earlier in anticipation.

Squall raised his eyebrows. “And what if I had actually made plans?” he challenged.

Laguna laughed, brushing his lips over Squall’s as he did every now and then just to feel them. “Then Irvine would have told me,” he murmured, pouring lubricant over three fingers. He intended to make this as smooth and passionate as possible. He’d have Squall screaming what he wanted before long.  
“I should have known,” Squall mumbled, sighing as he surrendered himself to Laguna’s careful ministrations.

As he worked his fingers inside Squall’s tight, hot body, Laguna explored various new paths his tongue could take to reach the little patch of curls that nestled his favorite treat. Smiling a little sadistically, he watched Squall’s face as he sparingly licked the tip of his son’s straining erection.

Squall groaned in frustration. “You’re teasing me,” he complained, his voice breathy and deep.

“You don’t seem to mind,” Laguna replied, surprised by the gruff sound of his own voice.

Deciding that he simply couldn’t wait any longer, Laguna withdrew his fingers, licking them slowly, one by one, as he moved back up. He stared down at his lover’s beautiful face, once more struck with the truth of just how lucky he was.

“You know I couldn’t resist even the slightest excuse to come see you,” he said, waiting until Squall smiled that sweet, soft smile that nobody else was allowed to see. Then, he pressed his lips to Squall’s once more for good measure as those strong thighs parted to him and he guided his hard, aching cock to Squall’s entrance.

The moment when they joined filled him with that whole, complete feeling, as always, and he smiled against Squall’s lips. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was alone in that sensation, but as the stoic commander’s features shifted slightly with a kind of sensual joy, he knew the answer.

Then, there was no more time for kisses and admiration. Laguna’s body reminded him rather insistently that there were other considerations. He rocked gently, once, and then more urgently, and just like that he was easily lost to developing a rhythm. He responded to Squall’s gasps and moans, altering his angle until he achieved the desired effect.

Squall screamed in ecstacy as Laguna assailed his sweet spot again and again. He arched, seeking more, and Laguna obliged, slamming into him so hard that the bed began to rock. Sweat beaded on his skin, and he felt hot all over, consumed by warmth inside and out.

Looking down at Squall, he was amazed as always that this man was his. He couldn’t even imagine relinquishing his lover over something as trivial as genes.

With this in mind, he paused after a particularly deep thrust, stilling his hips completely. Squall’s ecstatic expression slowly faded, and he swallowed deeply before opening his eyes. He searched Laguna’s face for an answer to the sudden pause. “Don’t stop,” he said simply, finding none.

Rocking just the tiniest little bit, Laguna smirked, taking in his son’s flushed face and dry, slightly parted lips. Leaning down, Laguna flicked his tongue out to wet them, then pulled back and watched them sparkle in the dim light.

“Will you indulge me, Squall?” he asked, supporting himself on one arm and tracing those lips with a finger.

“What?” Squall asked breathlessly, obviously trying hard to hold himself back from begging.

“Say it… Just once. Call me Dad,” Laguna whispered, barely brushing his own lips over the corner of Squall’s mouth.

When he opened his eyes, Squall was blushing, looking off to the side. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I—”

“Please?” Laguna pleaded, turning on his most charmingly persuasive smile and deliberately accidentally shifting inside of Squall’s body.

“Laguna… I can’t,” Squall insisted, looking back up at him with equally persuasive eyes. “Just… Just move. Please.”

Wearing a broad grin, Laguna brushed Squall’s blushing cheek with the back of his hand. “Not until you say it,” he whispered.

“That’s extortion!” Squall argued, frowning for all he was worth.

“If you think so,” Laguna agreed, rocking very slightly once more.

Squall made a sound of pure frustration, and Laguna could practically see the arguments clacking away in his mind.

“I love you,” Laguna whispered, effectively tipping the scales.

“Fine!” Squall finally growled, scowling darkly. “Dad.”

“You can do better than that,” Laguna prompted, adding a shallow thrust for argument’s sake.

“Dad,” Squall repeated, quietly and deliberately.

“What was that?” Laguna asked, feigning deafness.

“Dad,” Squall answered, a little louder.

“Huh?”

“Da-d-aaah!”

The last little scream of pleasure was a result of Laguna’s sharp thrust.

Grinning, Laguna began a new, slow pace, but he wasn’t satisfied yet. “Say it again,” he growled, reaching a hand between them to stroke Squall’s dripping erection.

This time, Squall put up no resistance. “Dad,” he moaned, alternating between pushing hard against Laguna, and thrusting up into the hand caressing him.

“Well done, son,” Laguna muttered, though it wasn’t loud enough for Squall to hear. He began thrusting harder and faster until Squall was moaning constantly with little cries breaking through. Both of them were extremely close, teetering on the edge.

“Scream for me, Squall! Cry it you cum!” Laguna urged him, driving hard against that magic spot deep inside.

Two more strokes and Squall complied, screaming “DAD!” as he spilled his seed. Laguna wasn’t far behind. In fact, only a scant moment later, he reached the peak of orgasm and came inside of Squall, freezing as his senses overloaded, before collapsing over his son’s chest.

The two of them took a long time to cool off and catch their breath, and when they did, Laguna rolled to the side and pulled Squall into his arms. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he muttered lazily.

Squall didn’t answer. Instead, he nestled himself comfortably against Laguna’s chest and fell fast asleep within moments.

*

The next day, Squall was even more quiet and withdrawn than usual. Only after lunch did Irvine give in to his insatiable curiosity and hazard an inquiry as to how dinner with Laguna had gone. Squall’s profuse blush and refusal to give any answer whatsoever was enough to astound the sniper. It would seem that Laguna really had managed the impossible, if Squall’s utter embarrassment was any sign. He must learn how Laguna managed such feats of persuasion… He could always do with a raise.


	7. Chapter 7

Alone in the surveillance room, Kiros stared at the screen before him playing a pre-recorded feed. He could hardly believe his eyes.

Old McGil had been a stoic, loyal, and silent security guard. This tape was probably recorded during his shift, and had his replacement not had to check up on a discrepancy in the records, the secret contained in it probably would have gone to the grave with the old man.

Tray Solth had a lot of experience under his belt, and it was a mark of his discretion that he came straight to Kiros with what he had inadvertently found. A sour expression on his face, Kiros pawed the controls, switched off the monitor, and ejected the tape. He tossed it up in the air and drew on a Fire spell, watching it burn to cinders before its descent completed.

He walked outside and pinned the waiting security guard with a solemn stare. “Now the tape archives match the records. Keep it that way. If you find any more... You know what to do.”

“Yes, sir!” Mr. Solth agreed. “And for what it’s worth, sir… I can’t really remember what I saw just now. I hope my memory lapse isn’t at all inconvenient.”

Kiros nodded to show his approval, and then left the surveillance room, his mind moving to process what he’d seen. He wouldn’t believe if it hadn’t been there before his own eyes. Squall and Laguna… Father and son… kissing rather passionately.

What could Laguna possibly be thinking? He had known Squall was his son by then, of course. That’s probably what all that arguing had been about before the two made up and proceeded to… Kiros shook his head. Laguna wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t engage in such a relationship, knowing full well that Squall was his own flesh and blood. Maybe that had been the end of it.

Of course, the many meetings and visits that had ensud since then suggested otherwise. Kiros could hardly count the amount of times Laguna had felt the need to consult in person with Squall over some minor issue—not to mention the few times the two had left their peers in charge in order to spend time together "bonding".

“Damn it,” Kiros muttered, wondering how he could have failed to see something so very precariously placed under his nose. He had to confirm his suspicions somehow, but… Well, there was one thing to try. Laguna was a moral man—at least, so Kiros had thought. If he really was seeing Squall, then he would reject Kiros’ advances, which had always been welcomed in the past.

*

Laguna was working late. He had spent an hour on the phone with Squall that morning, and again with Ellone in the afternoon. Now, he had to catch up on the work that had been neglected.

When there came a knock on the door, he absently called, “Come in,” and continued comparing charts.

“Thought I might find you here.”

“Oh, Kiros.” Laguna put the charts down and finally looked up, blinking as his vision adjusted from the hours he’d spent staring at small, black font on bright, white pages. “Is there a problem?”

“You might say that,” Kiros replied. He had taken up a lazy pose against the door, and now pushed off, stalking toward Laguna. As he spoke, he leaned over the desk, draping all over the scattered papers and placing his chin in his hands. “You’ve been working too hard.”

Laguna shrugged. “That’s part of the job,” he said, a little suspicious as to what Kiros was up to. “I have to repay the people for putting their trust in me. I can sacrifice a couple of extra hours…”

Kiros had wandered around the desk, and now stood behind Laguna. “Well then, let me do my part,” he suggested, his gentle hands sliding over Laguna’s shoulders as he began to rub firmly. “Go on, keep working,” he said after a moment.

“Thanks,” Laguna muttered gratefully. He returned to scanning diagrams and charts, but his concentration kept drifting to Kiros’ hands rubbing all the tension out of his shoulders. As those strong, deft thumbs shifted toward his back, he slowly gave up on his current pursuit and sighed, relaxing and letting Kiros work his magic. Damn, but he needed a good massage.

He’d forgotten how good Kiros was with his hands. It felt as though months of stress were just melting away under that strong but gentle caress. He didn’t even question his friend as he felt soft lips brush against his neck. A couple more light kisses fell upon his throat, and then Kiros’ tongue caressed his jaw. Unconsciously, Laguna tilted his head, allowing Kiros complete access to his neck. Those hands slipped from his shoulders and slid down his arms, and Kiros’ lips moved to Laguna’s ear, suckling before he added a soft bite.

Laguna gasped quietly. He’d been away from Squall for too long.

Shit. Squall.

Dazedly, Laguna shook his head, trying to bat Kiros away. “Stop. I can’t-”

Kiros ignored him and slipped subtle fingers beneath his chin, turning him so they were face to face. Kiros’ thumb brushed over his lip, and his protest cut off as he stared into his friend’s eyes. Before he could remember why he had been arguing, his eyes were closed and there was a soft, talented pair of lips manipulating his own. Then there was a tongue so skilled he barely noticed his own responding to the teasing caresses, and gentle fingers threaded through his hair…

In moments, Laguna was fully hard, responding to the familiar sensuality of his long time friend. It had been so long since he’d been with someone so experienced. Squall had been so endearingly innocent before Laguna had had his way with the beautiful commander, and Irvine, while knowing quite well what he was doing, was still too young to really have that... Whatever Irvine had or did not have, it was Kiros who used it on Laguna now, and Kiros was neither his beloved, nor their mutual lover.

Laguna, summoning his better senses, pushed Kiros away. “I cant,” he repeated firmly. “I’m sorry.”

“And why not?” Kiros asked, his eyes blazing with... Curiosity? Anger..? Lust?

“I-I’m seeing someone,” Laguna stammered.  
Kiros was unsurprised. “Who?” he asked immediately.

Caught off-guard, Laguna almost answered honestly, but he bit his tongue, shaking his head to stall an answer. “Please don’t ask,” he said eventually.

Staring into his eyes, Kiros turned Laguna’s swivel chair and bent over him, leaning on the arm rests. “Who are you seeing, Laguna?”

“Kiros…” Laguna almost moaned. Unless he came clean, Kiros wouldn’t understand his reluctance, but there was no way he could tell the truth. “Please… I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone.”

Kiros’ eyes hardened, and he dropped to his knees, his hands sliding up Laguna’s thighs. “Then it can’t be that serious,” he decided. He reached Laguna’s crotch, and began rubbing it hand one-handed, massaging as he had done to Laguna’s shoulders not too long ago.

Laguna could hardly breathe. Too long. Over two months. He wanted—he needed—to be touched, to be with someone...but that someone should be Squall.

“Kiros…” The plea came out more like a moan, and his head rolled back on his shoulders, resting against the back of the chair. “It’s serious,” he muttered, without an ounce of conviction. Only his words argued against his friend’s actions. “It really, really is.”

Ignoring him, Kiros rolled down Laguna’s fly, bending to lick the bulge tightly confined inside white briefs. He nuzzled the aroused protrusion, his nose nudging the length as his lips brushed over Laguna’s balls the moment his fingers tugged the formal trousers further away from the President’s crotch.

Laguna groaned loudly, his hands closing convulsively about the leather padding of his chair. “This isn’t fair. You’re not giving me a chance,” he panted. Then Kiros’ tongue skimmed over his hot flesh even as the cool, conditioned air swept over his erection.  
“All you have to do is tell me who it is,” Kiros argued, puffs of air buffeting Laguna’s cock as he spoke. When Laguna gave no answer, Kiros took the length in his hand, stroking it several times before his soft, seductive lips closed over the head.

Laguna clamped his mouth tightly shut. He could not tell Kiros he was seeing his own son. He just couldn’t… But this had gone too far already. Laguna groaned again, his lips falling open as he gasped for air. He struggled to snap himself out of it, but he was too hard, too hot… He needed this so badly…

Slowly, Laguna reached out, his fingers grasping Kiros’ braided head, clutching tightly. His breath shallow, he tried one last time before he gave up arguing altogether. “I love him,” he whispered.

*

Kiros felt Laguna’s hand on his head, urging him on, even as he heard the words persuading him to stop. Slowly, he sucked his way to the head of Laguna’s rock hard cock, letting the appendage slip from his lips.

“Then why can’t you just tell me who he is?” he asked, his feelings warring within him.

On one hand, it was more than obvious that Laguna was protecting a relationship he knew was wrong and would be frowned upon—such as an incestuous relationship between father and son. On the other hand, he was hurt that Laguna would risk cheating on the one he loved so much rather than confiding in his oldest and closest friend. A little spitefully, he began to wonder how far Laguna would go. If that was how he was going to be…

Laguna floundered for a moment, trying to catch his breath and refocus his mind. He seemed utterly conflicted. “That’s not an option,” he said quietly.

“You don’t trust me?” Kiros muttered angrily.

“Of course I trust you!” Laguna snapped. “Why else would I appoint you as my Head of Security?”

“Then tell me!” Kiros snapped back. A second later, he managed to contain his irrational anger, and gracefully rose to his feet. “If you can’t do that,” he said calmly, “Then finish this. Prove to me that you still care about me, if only as a friend.”

“Friends don’t…” Laguna had been about to say that friends don’t sleep with each other, but their years of history together had long since proved that wrong. “Friends don’t engage in adulterous sex,” he finished quietly.

Kiros swung one knee up on the chair, then the other, tightly sandwiching Laguna's muscled thighs and bracing himself against the back as he stared down at his president and superior.

“Friends don’t keep their relationships secret,” he replied smoothly. “Friends…” He drew out the word, leaning down to whisper in Laguna’s ear, “Don’t accept pleasure and refuse to give anything else in return.”

“That’s not fair,” Laguna moaned. “You know I care about you, but I can’t choose between you and Squall like this!” He gasped loudly as Kiros’ clothed backside grazed his inflamed cock.

He didn’t seem to realize that he had just inadvertently blurted out the name of his incestuous lover, effectively negating the bargain, and Kiros didn’t feel obliged to point it out. His heart seemed to stop in his chest, and all of the anger and hurt he had begun to feel came together in a spiteful decision.

He pulled off his shirt, tossing it over the desk. It felt like years that he had been in love with Laguna and said nothing. They hadn’t slept together for far longer than that. Now, he felt an acute need to exact some kind of revenge on Laguna for allowing himself to fall in love with someone he shouldn’t when Kiros was right there, waiting for him.

The President didn’t physically resist him, and didn’t argue aloud anymore. Kiros slowly, sensually removed his own clothes, watching Laguna’s eyes as they followed the revealed skin. As Laguna’s hand pressed against his chest, caressing rather than pushing, Kiros kissed him, using every ounce of skill he possessed to quell any lasting reluctance.

Despite the fact that he hadn’t been taken in years, Kiros trusted his own lingering saliva on Laguna’s erection to act as sufficient lubricant, and forestalled any chance for second thoughts by shifting his ass until Laguna’s cock was perfectly positioned. Then, he sat, pushing against Laguna’s chest and throwing his head back as he took the sufficient length into his body.

*

“K-Kiros…” Laguna moaned, wondering that his eyes didn’t roll back inside his skull. Then again, they were far too busy taking in every gorgeous detail of dark skin, sexy long hair, sleek muscles… Furthermore, his sense of touch was completely overwhelmed by the sensation of Kiros’ surprisingly tight ass slowly sheathing him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized that it was far too late to turn back now, and he slid his hand around to the back of Kiros’ neck, pulling his friend in for a slow, deep kiss. Kiros meant too much to him for any confusion to be had as to his willingness. He may as well enjoy what was begun.

Suddenly, Kiros broke the kiss, his dark eyes boring into Laguna’s as he began to ride his president’s cock. His powerful thighs worked, caressing Laguna’s, forcing his trousers to rub against his still clothed legs. Laguna felt himself moan, but he didn’t hear the sound. His throat wasn’t working as it should, and all that could be heard was their combined breathing as Kiros moved over and around him.

He was like a large cat, his muscles rippling, his eyes containing a slightly wild glimmer of danger, even as his lips parted in ecstasy. Laguna briefly wondered how he had gone so long without experiencing this man who could be addicting to the unwary. Then, he lost the ability to think.

Finally, a sound escaped his throat, and he cried out as Kiros grabbed his shoulders, nails digging in. Bracing himself, Kiros shifted his angle, and suddenly Laguna’s cock penetrated deeper, the sudden boost of pleasure almost felling him.

*

Kiros leaned heavily upon Laguna, gritting his teeth against making a sound as he ground his ass down, sparks flashing before his eyes. He bent his head, their lips almost touching before he raised up again. Laguna’s reached for his this time, and he caught the bottom one between his teeth, holding on and keeping his head level as he continued to ride up and down, his pleasure mounting moment by moment.

Laguna began to thrust up into him, and he released the lip he had been working between his teeth, slipping his tongue into his old friend's mouth. That was how he came, his tongue entwined with Laguna’s as an errant grunt broke through his silent control. Laguna was right there with him, moaning around his tongue, and almost biting them both as he came inside of Kiros, his hips spasming harshly, even as he fought to still them.

Determined to make Laguna remember this, Kiros tightened his muscles, continuing to caress Laguna’s erection with his body, milking every last drop. When it was over, he paused, poised over Laguna, one arm wrapped around the President’s neck and the other braced against the chair. He stared hard into his friend’s eyes.

“Squall…is your son,” he said slowly, enunciating each word.

Laguna sucked in a breath, completely frozen as he remembered the man he loved and realized that he’d just betrayed him. It took a few extra seconds, but he also managed to figure out that Kiros now knew of his relationship and certainly did not approve.  
He licked his suddenly dry lips, and began to mumble something placating, but Kiros interrupted him.

“I didn’t want to believe it. I made your excuses for you. I told myself it had to be over by now… But I had to know.” He gripped the back of Laguna’s neck, making sure the President looked him in the eyes. “You can’t keep seeing him.”

*

Laguna panicked. He couldn’t think like this, with Kiros’ naked body propped atop his bared crotch, their bodily fluids sticky on their skin.

“Get off me,” he muttered, needing to get to his feet, needing some space.

He couldn’t handle Kiros’ quiet, reasonable command. He could handle his friend’s eyes, so fucking sympathetic and yet determined. He had to get on his feet. He had to think! He had...to cover his damned crotch.

“Get off of me!” He snarled again when Kiros didn’t budge.

Slowly, Kiros stood, backing away and scooping his shirt off the desk. He pulled it on over his head, still staring very calmly and evenly at Laguna.

Laguna jerked up his fly, careful not to catch himself, then got up with relief, turning away from Kiros the first chance he got, and ignoring the uncomfortable moisture soiling his dry trousers. He'd need to have them thoroughly washed.

“Laguna…”

“It’s none of your fucking business!” Laguna hissed, surprised by the tears in his eyes. “You have no right to tell me whether or not I can continue my relationship with the one I love. No right!”

“He’s your son!” Kiros cried in exasperation.  
“Don’t you think I know that?” Laguna yelled, spinning around and pinning his friend with a frightening glare.

“That is what worries me!” Kiros snapped. “I thought I knew you better. I thought I knew a good, moral, honest man. Now I feel like I don’t know you at all. I do not know a Laguna who would knowingly sleep with his own son and continue to do so!”

Ouch. Laguna felt ice creep all over his body. That hurt a lot. Kiros had been by his side ever since he’d been a young buck. They’d grown up together, experienced the most important stages of each other’s lives… No one knew him better than Kiros.

He shook his head. “How can you talk like that after you seduced me? Knowing I was with someone! Knowing that I love him!”  
“Because I’m worried sick about you, Laguna!” Kiros cried, only seeming to realize what he’d said after the words flew out of his mouth. Now that that was up in there air, he had to continue. “You seem to have forgotten that there are security cameras in your office. You spend every ounce of free time with him. You…” He laughed, shaking his head. “You claim you love him so much, and yet you couldn’t keep yourself from cheating on him. Is it really that hard to push me away? Is it?”

“Yes!” Laguna froze, and then took a quiet, steadying breath. “Yes,” he repeated quietly. “Yes, it is. You’re my best friend, Kiros, and I’ve always loved you to a certain extent. The last thing I want is to hurt you…and it wasn’t like you gave me much of a choice,” he added through clenched teeth. “Besides…circumstances are a little different than you might expect.”

“If you care about me, then break it off with Squall,” Kiros told him quietly. “Stay with me. Have a normal relationship.”

Laguna looked away. “If it were that easy… If I could just let Squall go like that… I would have done it in the first place.”

“If… If anybody ever found out…” The ramifications were mirrored in Kiros’ voice. “You’d be ruined. You both would. Is it really worth all that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Laguna replied, turning back to face him, “But yes. It is worth that. I love him. I can’t help it. I’m...only human.” Laguna threw his hands up, turning to face the wall behind him, unable to continue saying all of this to Kiros’ angry face. “I know it’s wrong, but I tried not to and failed miserably, so what else would you have me do?” Kiros remained silent.

“Squall… Squall is the best thing that ever happened to me. I lost Raine. I won’t lose him, too, even if it’s the right thing to do. I don’t care.” He turned back to Kiros, resolved and defiant. “I know this is difficult to accept. I won’t give him up, but… I don’t want to lose you, either, Kiros.”

Kiros. Strong, prideful Kiros. He avoided Laguna’s eyes, and only then did the president notice the tears glistening as they fell down his friend’s cheeks.

“I love you.”

Laguna had to strain to hear it.

“Maybe you don’t care what happens to you, but I do. I don’t want to see what happens when those people who trust you to govern their lives find out that you’re fucking your own son.” Kiros turned wounded eyes on Laguna. “And besides that… I’m jealous. How could you choose him—your own flesh and fucking blood—over me. I can't take it.”

He couldn’t answer. Laguna couldn’t find a single, viable answer—at least, not one that would be acceptable or fair to Kiros.

“It… It doesn’t have to be like that,” he said quietly. “Him...or you. Squall...has Irvine. He wouldn’t mind if—”

“I’m not a fucking immoral slut like you Loires apparently are!” Kiros shouted suddenly.

Laguna knew he probably didn’t mean that, and he knew that Kiros would regret it later, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

“Don’t ask me to debase myself by reducing our friendship to meaningless skinship—”

“Meaningless? Was this—?”

“Of course it was. How could it have any meaning when you say you love someone else and choose them over me?” Kiros replied coldly, turning and striding from the room.

Laguna felt his knees go weak, and carefully dropped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his shins. He stared after Kiros, feeling rather hollow. How could he choose between the man he loved with all his heart and the one who had been at his side and had his back for most of his life? Kiros had to come back. He had to return and apologize, or yell some, or... Decades of friendship just couldn’t end like this.

*

Squall wondered what the time was. He was supposed to meet Irvine at 19:00 for dinner, but he’d had to take care of an errant T-Rexaur. Well, someone else could have done it, but he welcomed the opportunity to flex his muscles a little. He was getting soft, sitting at his cushy desk all day, every day, exercising only his brain and his fingertips. Of course, now he was sweaty and needed a shower.

Deciding that Irvine would probably rather wait for him than have him show up like this, he headed for his room. A quick shower, and then he would be off again.

What Squall didn’t realize was that it was already 19:30, so by the time he was out of the shower, it was 19:45, and he was three quarters of an hour late. That would explain why Irvine was waiting on his couch, looking quite comfortable as auburn eyebrows arched in question.

Squall paused in toweling off his hair, following the path of Irvine’s gaze to his completely naked and still rather wet body. He sighed.

“Irvine, I’m sorry. There was a—”

“I heard.” Irvine got up off the couch.  
“We can still go to dinner.”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Irvine told him, slipping his gloves off, finger by finger, his eyes still raking over Squall’s body. “At least…not for food.”

Grateful that he wasn't to be scolded, Squall let Irvine take the towel from him and drop it unceremoniously on the floor. “I really am sor—” He was cut off, not quite able to speak around Irvine’s tongue which had found its way into his mouth mid-word. Oh well. He was obviously forgiven.

Squall reached up to divest Irvine of the long, cumbersome coat that he often wore. The fabric was rubbing against his body and he wanted skin. Now. Laughing, Irvine helped him, backing up, much to Squall’s dismay. However, the following striptease was both amusing and enticing, and when the last piece of clothing fell from Irvine’s hand, Squall pushed him. Toppling onto the couch, Irvine grabbed at the commander and they fell together, Squall landing neatly in his lap.

Smiling a little shyly in response to Irvine’s grin, Squall settled more comfortably, his naked body rubbing against his lover’s. He bent his head to kiss the sniper, moaning into Irvine’s mouth as a hand snaked between them to wrap around his erection, stroking him to full hardness.

“Lube,” Irvine moaned against his lips.

“Fuck it,” Squall replied.

“No, I'd rather fuck you…and it’s in my pocket,” Irvine hissed, reaching for the leather chaps that were just out of his reach.

Squall snatched them up and dug in the deep pockets until he found the cool little bottle. He grinned at Irvine, holding it out of the sniper’s grasp, pouring a little over his hands and then tossing the bottle across the room.

As Irvine scowled at him, he rubbed his hands together to warm the liquid before he squirmed back a little so he could reach down and coat Irvine’s erection. That stopped him from complaining, despite how much he usually enjoyed wriggling his fingers around in Squall's ass.

Satisfied, Squall raised himself up, bracing himself on Irvine’s shoulders. He had to grip hard because his hands were rather slippery, but Irvine didn’t complain, groaning, rather, as he guided his cock to Squall’s entrance.

Slowly at first, Squall pressed down. As soon as he felt the head of Irvine’s cock stretch and fill him, he let himself fall upon the erect limb.

Gasping, he closed his eyes tightly, a mixture of pleasure and just a touch of pain sweeping through him. His hands slid down Irvine’s naked arms, and he tightened his grip as he lifted his ass slowly and pushed back down before the sniper could protest that he was hurting.

He wasn’t. Not really. It was just a rush of sensation all at once. Irvine’s hand pressed against his face and he leaned into the touch, turning to kiss the sniper’s palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” Irvine whispered, his voice fading to a grunt as Squall tightened his ass, plunging down on Irvine’s cock until he felt the sniper’s balls squish against his butt cheeks.

“Your not so bad yourself,” Squall replied, the words coming out in a whoosh of breath as he tilted his head back and executed several short pumps of his legs, having found the right angle to work his prostate directly against Irvine’s rigid length. He moaned, allowing Irvine to pull him against that sexy chest and begin driving up into him. He arched his back and cried out as the spot was hit once more.

Vaguely, Squall registered a foreign sound that wasn’t Irvine’s moan of rapture, but his mind couldn’t take in much more than the immense pleasure growing inside of him. His erection trapped between his and Irvine’s bodies rubbed constantly, the friction driving him mad as he pressed down into Irvine’s thrusts.

*

Irvine heard the door, but he didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t want to. He had Squall all to himself right now, and that was all he cared about. He couldn’t get enough of the beautiful commander, and he cherished the time they spent alone because it was all he had.

Squall didn’t love him. Squall loved Laguna... But Squall loved to fuck and be fucked by him, because Irvine made sure he was damn good!

Careful not to miss one moment of Squall’s ecstasy, Irvine focused on the blissful expression across his lover’s face. Laguna got the tender, sweet expressions, but Irvine was proud of this hot, passionate Squall that was practically all his!

Heaving upward, Irvine held tightly onto Squall as he flipped them over, laying the commander down on the couch and waiting until those strong thighs wrapped around his waist. Pausing to kiss Squall, he braced himself, his hands to either side of the man’s head, soft brown hair falling over his fingers.  
Breathing heavily, Irvine was pleased as Squall unconsciously reached for his retreating lips, slowly opening his eyes when he realized they were out of range. Grinning down at him, Irvine began to take him hard and fast.

When Squall came, Irvine imprinted the widened, lust darkened eyes and dilated pupils, the gently parted lips, and the rosy, flushed cheeks in his mind.

*

Laguna strode briskly toward Squall’s quarters. He’d tossed and turned all night in Esthar, finally deciding that he simply had to see Squall. He took the day off and hopped the first flight he could. Guilt ridden and horribly depressed, he needed the loving comfort Squall could give him. He also needed to confess. In person. So there he stood, in front of Squall’s door. Afraid to knock.

Only then did he remember that Squall had mentioned carving some time out for dinner plans with Irvine while complaining about being chained to his desk a week ago. Laguna should just go in and wait. Squall didn’t usually lock the door unless they were together.

However, when Laguna opened it, expecting to find an empty room, he found it quite occupied instead. Before him, the tantalizing sight of Squall’s ass rode up and down upon what Laguna assumed was Irvine’s erection as the face of Squall’s lover was barred by his body.

Briefly, Laguna wondered whether he should let them know he was there, or join in perhaps. He stood there deliberating for several seconds, then turned around and pulled the door shut almost silently behind him. Squall was enjoying himself. There was no reason for Laguna to interrupt. He should just fly back home and leave the two to their exploits.

Squall seemed perfectly happy as he was. He and Irvine hadn’t even made it out the door for dinner.

Maybe Squall was better off with the sniper. Irvine was handsome, and they obviously liked each other well enough…and Irvine was just another guy, not Squall’s father, or the president of anything. He was a guy Squall could live a relatively quiet and normal life with; without having to lock doors for terror of exposure, without having to worry about national scandals—at least, not the kind that would get him strung up.

Before he’d even made up his mind, Laguna walked away. Only when he was on the midnight flight of the Ragnarok, conveniently headed back to Esthar for its regular maintenance, did he allow himself to even think about the black hole that was opening up in his chest. As he stared out the window into the dark night, he realized that he didn’t intend to see Squall again. Kiros was right. It was time for them to stop pretending their relationship was acceptable.

If the stewardess recognized him, or noticed the tears slipping silently down his cheeks, she didn’t say so. She left the brandy he’d ordered and then went to see to the only other first class passenger.

*

Squall rubbed at his eyes. He was exhausted. He’d worked at his desk all day before dealing with the T-Rexaur, and then he and Irvine had abandoned their dinner plans for…more energetic pursuits. Only, once they had collapsed together on the couch and he had slowly become aware of his ability for sentient thought once more, he had wondered about the click that had barely registered in his bliss-fogged mind not too long before.

Irvine had admitted to hearing the door when he mentioned it, and the two wondered at who could have walked in on them. After all, only Quistis knew for sure about the intimacy between them, and she always knocked as a result. Anyone else should have made a scene.

Sighing, Squall had managed to drag himself up and back into the shower. Together they went to visit the instructor. However, she said that she hadn’t been anywhere near Squall’s room, but perhaps Laguna had been the one to walk in on them as he’d been and gone already.

Shocked, Squall had asked Irvine to call up and book him the first available spot on the Ragnarok to Esthar. That had turned out to be a midnight flight. On the bright side, there was hardly anyone in First Class, as the commercial service of the refurbished airship was new and pricey. In fact, Squall had only seen the stewardess attending to one other seat. Briefly, he wondered if Laguna was traveling by slower means and would arrive after him.

Not for the first time, Squall wondered what Laguna had been doing Balamb in the first place, and why he had shown up with no warning and then left without even a word. Yet again, he came upon the conclusion that Laguna had wanted to surprise him and had walked in on him and Irvine. It didn’t make sense that that would have hurt him, but emotions could take over a person’s logic sometimes. That had to be what it was.

For the third time, Squall decided that if Laguna asked him to stop seeing Irvine, he would. After all, Laguna was the one he loved… But Irvine had been his friend through the hardest parts of his life and was still there now, even though he had every right to be disgusted and angry at Squall’s relationship with Laguna. Irvine loved him, and Squall had to admit that he loved Irvine as well, to a certain extent, but Laguna…

Growling, Squall got up. He needed to work his legs. The hostess rushed to his side, asking if there was anything he needed, but he quietly assured her that he was fine and just needed to take a short walk around the cabin.

Wandering up the far aisle from the other passenger, he glanced over. It was a woman. Actually, from the back, she looked a little like Rinoa, sporting the same length of dark hair. Actually, it was a lot like Laguna’s, too. Sighing, Squall leaned against the tea cart at the back of the cabin. What was he going to do if Laguna wanted him to stop seeing Irvine?

A noise of frustration escaped him. He’d already decided that, and he would just have to keep reminding himself of the answer every time the question came up.

Starting back down the aisle, he caught a glance of the other passenger’s face as she—he craned around to look at the noisy passenger.

“Laguna!?”

Cutting through the middle row of luxury seats, Squall dashed to Laguna’s side, shocked that they had been only half a cabin away this whole time.

“Squall?” Laguna’s eyes widened in what Squall was dismayed to interpret as fear. “What are you doing here?”

“Flying to Esthar to find you!” Squall replied, frowning. “Quistis said you’d been at Balamb,” he explained uncertainly, wondering why Laguna looked less than thrilled to see him.

Laguna looked away, perched nervously on the edge of his seat. He stared at the pitch black window, not even looking back as he spoke. “Listen, Squall… I’ve been thinking, and… I think we should stop seeing each other.”

“What?” Squall’s knees felt weak, but he wouldn’t move for the world right now. Looking around habitually, he noticed that the stewardess was out of ear shot, but he stood up straight, and smiled with a great deal of effort, anyway. “We’re okay in here,” he called to her. “Why don’t you go take a break and rest your feet?”

“Are you sure, sir?” she asked, frowning.  
Squall had noted her advances and had not, of course, shown any interest in sleeping with her at all. He nodded, forcing himself to keep smiling. “Of course. You’ve been working hard.” She had not actually done much at all, considering there were only two passengers in her section, but it got rid of her, and once she was out of sight, Squall turned slowly back to Laguna, his smile completely gone.

“We really can’t talk about this now,” Laguna said quickly, before Squall could address him. “She could come back.”

“We’re going to talk about this now!” Squall snarled, startling himself with his own vehemence. He forced himself to calm down and moved between the seats, glad for the extra space in First Class as he leaned back as casually as he could against the corresponding seat in the next row. “Laguna, what’s gotten into you?”

Leaning forward, Laguna rested his elbows on his knees, hanging his head to keep from having to look at Squall. “I just think that… Maybe you would be better off with Irvine. It would be a less complicated relationship, and I know you care about him enough to—”

“Laguna! I love you!” Squall exclaimed, stressing the last word. He fell to his knees, dropping to a level where Laguna could see him without Squall having to force him to look up. “Irvine is a good friend, and yes, I care about him, even love him in a way, but…he's not you. He could never replace you. I don’t care how wrong it is anymore. I don’t care, because I love you, and no matter how complicated it gets, that is all that matters!” When Laguna said nothing, Squall reached out and touched his knee, gaining no reaction. “Do you… Is it because I’ve been sleeping with Irvine while you’re away?” No answer. More quietly, Squall aired his worst fear, his hand slipping from Laguna’s leg. “Is it me? Have you changed your mind about loving me?”

Finally, Laguna looked up, his gaze tortured and shocked. He seemed to realize then that he’d denied this the moment he responded. He sagged into the back of the seat, shaking his head. “Squall...” Squall waited, knowing he could never accept it if he failed to convince Laguna that they simply had to be together. “I love you. Of course I do. That’s why I’m saying this.”

“No.” That wasn’t acceptable. “No!” Squall shot to his feet, clenching his fists at his sides. “If it’s not Irvine, and you still love me, then you need to give me a reason why you want to leave me, and it had better be damn good!”

*

Space… He needed…

Laguna jumped up and slipped out into the aisle, taking several steps as he ran his hand through his hair. How could this be so hard!? Why was Squall pushing so desperately!?

“Answer me!”

“It’s me! Okay?! It’s me!” Laguna snapped, whirling on Squall. “I cheated on you! I slept with Kiros! I couldn’t be faithful and now I’m suffering the guilt because you deserve better than that! You deserve someone like Irvine who’ll love you, and only you. You deserve… You deserve someone you can touch in public. You deserve a lover who’ll be there for you and a father who isn’t a complete and total idiot.” Laguna knew he was crying again, but he just couldn’t stop the tears, and when Squall pulled him into familiar arms, he couldn’t find the strength to break away. “You deserve so much better than me!” he sobbed.

How could Squall be comforting him? Didn’t he know that Laguna had meant everything he said? Didn’t he hear that Laguna had betrayed his trust and love?

“It’s okay,” Squall whispered.

“It’s not!” Laguna moaned, finally pushing Squall back and spinning away from that sweet, beautiful face. He stumbled several steps down the aisle and then fell heavily against one of the seats, leaning on it to support his shaking limbs.

He struggled when Squall came after him again, holding him from behind, stroking his hair back from his tear-streaked face.

“Laguna, calm down.” How could he calm down? He was breaking up with the one person he’d ever loved with every fiber of his being! How could he calm down!? “Dad! Stop it!”

The word was as sharp as a slap to the face, and Laguna choked on a gasp. Immediately, he stopped sobbing, though the tears continued to trickle unchecked down his cheeks.

Squall’s forehead pressed against the nape of his neck. “Please, listen,” the commander whispered. “If… If you love me so much, and you think so highly of me, then… Then shouldn’t I deserve what I want?” Squall asked quietly, rationally. “I want you. I love you. I don’t care that you slept with Kiros, and it’s hardly cheating on me when you know I’ve been with Irvine in your absence.”

Squall’s arms tightened around him, and Laguna found himself leaning into the embrace as though nothing had changed. “I was worried sick, thinking that you had taken off because of that. I thought you were angry. I thought I was going to lose you because I was stupid enough not to realize that no one matters more to me than you. If… If it’s what you want, I can wait weeks, months…years just to be with you. You’re all that matters to me.”

Slowly, Laguna turned. At first Squall resisted, probably thinking he was trying to escape again, but then Laguna slipped his arms around the commander and returned the embrace. They held each other for a long time, just listening to each other’s breathing, sorting through their own thoughts and the various points of the argument.

Much calmer than he’d been since Kiros first visited him, Laguna buried his face in Squall’s hair. “I love you so much,” he insisted, re-affirming it for himself as well as for Squall.

How had he almost managed to convince himself that he could live without this man? He laughed, all of a sudden. “I drove myself insane needing to tell you what I’d done. Even when I saw you with Irvine, it didn’t occur to me that you might not despise me for it! Squall… Oh, Squall I’ve been acting like such a fool.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Squall breathed. “Irvine, Kiros… It doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t leave me… It doesn’t matter.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Laguna finally pulled back far enough to look into Squall’s eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you onto the Ragnarok before I realized what a moron I am,” he said with a small smile that he hoped was endearing.

Squall groaned, burying his face in Laguna’s chest. “I’m going to have to charter a ride back to Balamb as soon as we arrive!”

“No, you are not!” Laguna argued. “You are going to come home with me and get a good night’s rest before I let you out of my sight!”

Only then did he notice how tired Squall appeared to be. Of course, it was almost the early hours of the morning in Balamb.

*

“Kiros, a call just came in from Laguna. He ordered a car to pick him up from the landing site,” Ward rumbled as he strode into the Security Office where Kiros had been taking care of Laguna’s urgent work. “Do you want to go, or shall I?”

Kiros was already up and on his way out the door. “Phone down and tell the driver to wait for me!” he called as he strode off.

By the time he reached the waiting car, Kiros was fuming. Last night, he had barely slept. He’d been thinking and thinking about what he’d done and had eventually come to the conclusion that he had over-reacted. He had surely not gone about things the right way. He’d been ready to apologize and try and make it up to Laguna when the president’s secretary had informed him that he was to take over the presidential duties for the time being while Laguna made a crucial trip to Balamb Garden.

Crucial!? Fuck Crucial!

Just wait till he got his hands on that prick!  
Kiros slammed the presidential door to the presidential car. He stalked—scowling—through the crowd which parted for him instantly. Catching sight of a familiar presidential head, he made a beeline for it, reaching the president just as he turned around.

*

“You asshole!” Kiros snarled, grabbing Laguna’s shirt in his fist and almost hauling the president off his feet. “What makes you think you can just run off like that and leave me to do your work for you!?”

Laguna cleared his throat, glancing around at the people staring at them. “Okay, Kiros, calm down… Let’s just get to the car, okay?” Laguna calmly pried Kiros’ fingers from his now wrinkled shirt. “Ah! There’s Squall!” he said quickly, dodging around the angry man.

He could feel Kiros’ glare boring into his back, and smothered the urge to grimace as he knew that everyone’s eyes were on them. Grabbing Squall’s elbow, he tugged the commander along, smiling at a guard as he passed.

They made it through the sparse crowd of disembarked passengers relatively without incident, and then they reached the limousine, Laguna pulling Squall in with him. A moment later, Kiros followed and slammed the door, staring angrily at the two.

Squall glanced at Laguna, who felt rather weak, and then apparently decided to take the initiative. He leaned forward.

“Kiros, I-”

“I don’t want to hear from you!” Kiros growled.

Laguna watched through a certain sense of detachment, wondering how he could placate his friend now that he’d sorted everything out with Squall.

“I am still your superior!” Squall snapped, in the tone he had eventually developed once he’d realized that he was going to have to play the role he’d been dumped with.

“Don’t pull rank on me!” Kiros snarled sullenly.

“Then shut up and listen before you dig yourself a hole!” Squall cried, startling both Kiros and Laguna. Once he had Kiros’ attention, he sat back and began to speak in a calm, reasonable voice. “I know what happened between you and Laguna, and I’m not angry—Ah! Listen! I do have the right to be, because whatever else we are, Laguna is my lover, whether you like it or not. Nothing you say, and nothing you do, will change that. However...” Now, Squall’s voice lowered, becoming tender and quiet. “I respect the feelings you have for him…and those that he must have for you, after so long by each other's sides. If…” He glanced at Laguna. “If you don’t mind sharing, then I can accept an additional agreement between the two of you. After all…” Now, he smiled softly, his eyes sliding to Laguna again. “It’s not fair to leave him all alone with all work and no play while I have Irvine back at Balamb.”

Laguna had been watching Kiros, but he shared Squall’s smile, thinking of how silly he had been. Now, his eyes returned to his old friend, who was staring out the window. He should say something… He took a deep breath and leaned forward, reaching out to take Kiros’ hand. He should—

Kiros turned back to face him, their eyes locking, and Laguna froze. He was terrified. If Kiros couldn’t accept his relationship with Squall…

Slowly, Kiros took Laguna’s hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes never leaving Laguna’s face. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said quietly. “I was angry.” His eyes slid to Squall. “And jealous.”

Flooded with relief, Laguna lurched forward and fell on Kiros, fiercely hugging his friend. “You don’t know how much this means to me!” he insisted. “I really though I would lose you over this!”

*

“So did I,” Kiros admitted quietly.

He could hardly believe he had allowed himself to be manipulated so easily, but… He could see that Laguna truly loved Squall, and there was no way he could change their minds. Laguna was far too cherished a friend to lose because Kiros didn’t approve of his pursuits, never mind that he had good reason not to.

Sighing, Kiros let Laguna go, watching the president flop back into his seat in that charming, careless manner of his. Perhaps he should accept Squall’s offer… To keep Laguna out of trouble, of course.

“You wouldn’t mind,” he said skeptically, pride battering the question into a doubtful statement. “At all.”

Squall shrugged. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like to be possessive,” he said, his adoring eyes on Laguna once more before they returned to Kiros, “But we’re both busy, and I want him to be happy. I certainly do not want a repeat of today’s…events,” he said tactfully, and Kiros made a note to ask Laguna about that later. “Truth be told, I don’t really want to end what I have with Irvine, either, but I see the unbalance of it now…. So, no. I wouldn’t mind...too much,” he concluded.

Kiros understood what he was saying, understood the place he was being offered. In any other situation, pride would rule his answer and he would probably make a decision that he would regret, but where Laguna was concerned…

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll play the Devil’s advocate.”

  
Pleased, Squall reached out and took Kiros by the back of the neck, causing a jolt of shock. Laguna, meanwhile, just sat back and watched with raised eyebrows while his son and lover leaned in toward Kiros with the intention of initiating a kiss. Eyes on Laguna, Kiros dodged.

"This isn't..." He cleared his throat. "Not this," he said. "I didn't agree to this."

Squall's grip tightened on his nape, and the boy commander who had grown into a man forced their gazes to align and stared a warning into his eyes. It was, admittedly, both intimidating and arousing.

"If you think you can just have Laguna when I'm gone and pretend he's all yours, turning a blind eye to the truth, you've got another thing coming. My permission is not unconditional."

"Then state your conditions," Kiros challenged.

Squall's grip shifted to a misleadingly gentle hold, his touch seducing while his words threatened. "Be it just this once, or be it reoccurring, you're going to partake in a shared experience. Our sins will be your sin, and should you ever wish to end this arrangement, you'll carry the knowledge of that fact with you."

He was clever, Squall. Unlike Laguna, he played the long game, planning ahead and setting contingencies. Kiros couldn't help but admire that foresight. Laguna, however, wasn't shrewd enough to appreciate it.

"Squall... You can't force him into anything," said the president, frowning over those words. "This would have to be something he wants. Circumstances were very different with Irvine. He was more inclined to accept me in order to be with you."

Laguna couldn't see it, but Kiros observed a predatory spark in the commander's eyes before he leaned in and spoke into Kiros' ear, still holding him by the back of the neck. "He thinks you're not inclined to accept me."

Squall's other hand reached down to cup and squeeze Kiros' telltale erection. "Are you going to correct him, or will I have to submit my evidence?"

Whatever his inclinations, Kiros disliked being cornered. "Prove to me you're half the man your father is, and I'll consider it. This little display of testosterone is not helping your case, not unless you have the balls to follow through."

"Kiros!" Laguna moaned, "Don't provoke him! You're both acting like children!"

The blush that graced Laguna's cheeks when he realized the irony of that statement fueled the growing fire in Kiros' belly. Squall wanted him to hold a share in their sinful relationship? That was the price Kiros had to pay not to lose Laguna completely to this overgrown pup? So be it.

"Then stop us, daddy," he drawled, grinning ferally. ''Put your son in his place."

Mortified, Laguna tried to sink into the leather lining of his seat. Squall, however, was in a mood to be aggravated by such words. He took Kiros' mouth forcefully, roughly pushing him down prone across the seats facing their mutual interest.

Breaking the kiss, Squall ducked to bite Kiros' earlobe, then went for the throat as his fingers grew busy with the divestment of clothing. He had Kiros' number, all right. He wasn't going to back down an inch by slowing and trying to temper this tryst into something romantic. Kiros had only just enough room in his war-worn heart for Laguna. His libido was somewhat more available.

Raising a hand to rest on Squall's gradually descending head, he turned his gaze upon Laguna, silently expressing that he was a consenting partner in this. He searched for—and found—signs of misgivings in Laguna's eyes, but he also saw gratitude, relief, and a rising tide of eager anticipation.

As Squall took Kiros—flesh now bared from chest to mid-thigh—into his mouth, Laguna worked his own belt and button, freeing enough room there to slip his hand into his trousers and start tugging on his own erection. If anything, Kiros appreciated the eroticism of putting on a show, and arched and moaned, biting down on a finger before trailing saliva down his chest and rubbing a nipple. He didn't have to fake his responsiveness, Squall had clearly learned a lot from Laguna and Irvine.

However, it was when Squall hefted his thighs and set tongue and teeth to the cleft of his ass that Kiros dropped any efforts of pretense and his body took over entirely. As Squall gnashed and tongued his hole, he reached out, fingers grasping the cloth at Laguna's knee.

Moved, Laguna stopped fondling himself and slid to his knees in the valley between the two seats, bearing down on Kiros with a kiss that mimicked the ferocity with which Squall was eating him out. He moaned and writhed, on hand pulling and pushing the tangled mess of hair at Squall's crown, the other arm locked around Laguna's neck, their faces meshed and tongues entwined. If this was the sin he was to share in, he could certainly do far worse.

When Squall penetrated him, it was with a rough abandon Kiros welcomed. Overcome, he groaned and released Laguna, reaching for purchase to keep himself from being thrust head-first into the door handle. This wasn't at all what he had expected from Squall, or what he was accustomed to with Laguna. He panted, gazing up at the young commander whose intense expression boring right back down into Kiros' eyes betrayed the height of his arousal. He was new to this, too.

Unable to hold that piercing gaze, Kiros turned his face aside, tugging Laguna's cock free. The president adjusted, bracing himself against the roof of the vehicle and leaning his kees into the edge of the seat. He moaned and threw his head back as Kiros engulfed his cock in one deep swallow, taking it right down his throat.

The next time Kiros flicked his eyes up, Laguna was staring down wide-eyed, as if to engrave in his memory every detail of Squall's cock plowing in and out of Kiros. He hungrily observed the heaving contractions of Kiros' abdomen and chest, and the sight of his own cock disappearing down Kiros' massaging throat.

Then, his head was tugged by a grasping hand and he leaned into a deep, desperate kiss. Gasping, Kiros let Laguna slip from his mouth and grabbed his jostling erection in his hand, pumping it hard as the two beautiful men looming above him kissed passionately. Thinking himself forgotten, Kiros strove for release, but it was Squall's blindly grasping hand that brought it to him, curling around his own and taking over the furious tug to completion.

After that, Kiros watched on as Laguna hauled Squall atop himself in an awkward stumble back to the opposite row of seats. The car stopped short, sending Kiros sliding and almost toppling the other two, but it started moving again soon and Laguna guided Squall onto his red, swollen member. They held tight to one another, Squall crouched close to avoid smacking his head on the roof as they both heaved and strained toward completion.

Laguna came first, shouting wordlessly, and Squall followed moments later, his thighs spasming and his body arching backward. Concerned, Kiros moved to support him, catching him as he slipped bonelessly from his perch into a dark embrace.

Pulling the very spent and sated commander into his lap, Kiros sat back and favored Laguna with a dry look. As Squall curled up against him, he could hardly claim to be immune to the seductive charm of the young man who had lived a hard yet accomplished life.

"I accept your conditions," he murmured, looking down at the sweat-matted head tucked against his chest. "So long as this sort of reckless activity stops," he added, glancing around at the sweaty and soiled interior of the vehicle, strewn with clothes and a surprising amount of stray hair.

"Mmm," was all the response he got, for the commander was very nearly asleep in Kiros' arms.

"He's had a long day," Laguna pointed out with a shrug.

"As have you," Kiros commented, relenting. "I am sorry," he reiterated. "I see, now, that what is between you is nothing I could have come between. Your love for Squall... You never looked at Raine that way...nor at Julia. This is not a relationship you pursue lightly. That much is clear."

Eyes on the soundly sleeping commander, Laguna seemed sad. "If I'd known, I would have treasured him and raised him... I would never have—"

"And the world would have ended," Kiros noted. "Squall would never have been orphaned and recruited by SeeD. Ultemicia would have prevailed."

"For the years we would have had as a family, maybe it would have been worth it," Laguna mused. A moment later, he shook his head. "What's done is done. What matters is that we're happy now...together. I won't ask you to try and understand, but—"

"I understand well enough," Kiros said quietly, averting his gaze. "It's difficult to accept in concept, but the reality is...undeniable."

"Thank you, Kiros...my dear friend. I am beholden to you."

"Then you can start cleaning up this mess while your lazy spawn has me pinned," Kiros said dryly. He caught and ignored Laguna's wince. He wasn't about to start mincing words just because Laguna would prefer not to face facts. "And while your at it, there's beer in the mini bar. I could use a drink."

"That makes two of us," Laguna said with a chuckle. "We'll wake Squall when we're closer and clean up together."


End file.
